Chapter 176

Aegor had anticipated the beginning but not the end.

He had expected to face questioning or an investigation for warning Tyrion, but what he hadn’t expected was this: the elaborate defenses he’d prepared never saw use because he was thrown directly into the dungeons of the Red Keep, where he remained for nearly a week.

Five days, six days? Maybe five and a half? In the dim confines of the cell, time blurred into a foggy haze. The only consolation was that he had been imprisoned alongside other “political prisoners” and Lannister affiliates. As hostages ahead of any formal war declaration between the Iron Throne and the Westerlands, their treatment wasn’t too harsh—yet.

Judging by the reactions of the other prisoners confined on the same level, it seemed that nine out of ten Lannister captives truly had no idea about Cersei’s incest or her treasonous schemes. Some wailed incessantly about their innocence, while others roared and cursed, swearing vengeance upon their captors. A few sat silently in corners, drained of all hope, staring into space like they had already resigned themselves to their fates. Then there were the peculiar ones—those who treated the cell like a temporary bedroom, chatting after meals, napping when tired, seemingly unbothered by their imprisonment.

In Aegor’s cell, one such oddity stood out, a man with whom Aegor—having nothing better to do after days of isolation—struck up a friendship. The man, Humphrey Hill, was an accountant affiliated with the Lannisters, part of their sprawling commercial empire in King’s Landing. Through him, Aegor learned staggering facts: the total wealth of the Lannisters and their Westerlands affiliates in the city amounted to tens of thousands of gold dragons. This vast fortune, if seized and fully utilized, would serve as the Iron Throne’s starting capital for a war against the Westerlands. And that didn’t even include the value of the hostages.

...

“This time, the Hand arrested hundreds of people, at least dozens of whom hold noble titles,” Humphrey explained. “Westerlanders are always worth a fortune. Each of us could easily fetch hundreds or even thousands of gold dragons in ransom, which adds up to another few thousand or more.”

Aegor marveled at the figures. The entire Night’s Watch enterprise under his management had only just reached assets in the tens of thousands of gold dragons—and much of that was tied up in debts and investments. “But this is war. If the six kingdoms march on the Westerlands, even tens of thousands of dragons won’t last more than a few days.”

“True, but don’t forget: in war, the wealth of captured castles becomes the attacker’s spoils. The Westerlands, rich in gold mines, are second only to the Reach when it comes to being able to ‘fund war through war.’” Humphrey sighed. “Thanks to Lord Tywin, few have dared to target the Westerlands’ wealth, but with the Iron Throne leading the charge, that hard nut turns to easy meat. If Eddard Stark promises his bannermen that the spoils of captured castles will belong to their conquerors, the lords and soldiers of the six kingdoms will rush in like wolves. If the Lannisters refuse to surrender or fail to outmaneuver them, their destruction is only a matter of time.”

Aegor considered this grimly. If he had risked everything to help Tyrion escape, only for the Lannisters to lose the war anyway... wouldn’t all his suffering have been in vain?

“Humphrey, will your family pay your ransom?”

“I’m a bastard, Aegor. My mother’s long dead, and no one will pay for me.”

“What about your father?”

Humphrey’s expression darkened, as though reluctant to name him—or perhaps he truly didn’t know. “Some big shot in Lannisport.”

“What happens to prisoners like us—commoners without ransom?” Aegor asked, more out of curiosity than concern.

“Only nobles are protected by customary agreements. Commoners get no such courtesy. In war, if you’re a knight or higher, you have a chance of being ransomed. The rest of us? We either die or get conscripted on the spot. As for now... well, it depends on how things develop. If the king conquers the Westerlands quickly and feels generous, he might release us. If the war drags on, it’ll be the axe or hard labor.”

“If things look desperate, you could always join the Night’s Watch. At least you’d keep your head.”

“Ha! That cursed place? No thanks.”

Aegor almost mentioned his position as chief logistics officer, that he could look out for Humphrey if it came to that. But considering his own imprisonment, such promises felt hollow.

Their conversation petered out, and the cell fell into silence until footsteps echoed in the corridor. A jailer appeared with a familiar Winterfell guard in tow. The guard unlocked the door and barked, “Prisoner Aegor West, come with us. The Hand of the King wants to see you.”

Finally, a chance for reprieve. Aegor gave Humphrey a nod of farewell and stepped out of the cell, catching the envious gaze of his cellmate as he followed the guard down the dim corridor.

With his wrists and ankles shackled, Aegor was escorted into the Hand’s office. Inside, his greatest supporter—and the one who had ordered his arrest—was waiting. Standing beside Eddard Stark was Arya, her eyes glinting mischievously. She gave Aegor a triumphant wink, her expression saying, See? I saved you. Touched?

“Lord Stark,” Aegor greeted respectfully, avoiding any acknowledgment of Arya’s antics. Standing straight, he awaited the Hand’s words.

...

“Have you cleared your head after a few days in the cells?” Eddard’s tone was even, his gaze steady. “Do you know what crime you’ve committed?”

So, they hadn’t simply forgotten him in the dungeon.

Being locked up for several days, only to face an interrogation that began with, Do you know what crime you’ve committed?—a weaker man might have broken down, confessing to sins from his past lives. But Aegor wasn’t just anyone. He was a modern man who had read countless books on psychology and had weathered plenty of storms in King’s Landing. Though it was his first time personally experiencing such a tactic, he recognized the play.

What’s more, with Arya present, the threat of this interrogation seemed significantly diminished.

He’s not planning to do anything to me, Aegor concluded. From the moment he helped Tyrion escape, he had anticipated this moment and prepared accordingly. His strategy could be summed up in one phrase: Deny everything and stick to your story.

Feigning indignation, Aegor began his well-rehearsed defense. “My lord, it’s true that I killed two men that night... but they attacked me first. I acted in self-defense.”

Feigning ignorance, Eddard hadn’t expected such a response. “That’s not the matter in question.”

“It isn’t?” Aegor looked genuinely confused. “Then what is, my lord? Please, enlighten me.”

Eddard’s eyes narrowed. “The day Ser Alliser Thorne brought the wight into the Red Keep, you entered with him but left halfway through. Where did you go? What did you do?”

“So that’s what this is about. My lord, I left because the Red Keep was in chaos, and I suddenly remembered that Arya often sneaks out of the castle to practice swordsmanship with Tyrion Lannister. I feared she might be taken hostage, so I hurried out to find her.”

“Arya wasn’t outside that day,” Eddard stated flatly.

“How could my master have known that?” Arya interrupted, only for Eddard to glare at her. She pouted but held her tongue.

“I was told by the guards at the gate that Arya hadn’t left,” Eddard continued, fixing Aegor with a sharp gaze.

“There are side gates, my lord,” Aegor countered earnestly. “In hindsight, I should have gone to the Tower of the Hand to confirm her whereabouts. But at the time, with the situation so urgent, I didn’t dare gamble with your daughter’s safety. Even if it meant a wasted trip, I had to make sure.”

“Is that so?” Eddard’s voice grew colder. “Then explain why Tyrion left your Night’s Watch operation immediately after your arrival. And why, when the City Watch came to capture him, you falsely claimed he had taken a ship to Casterly Rock?”

...

Aegor felt sweat trickling down his back, but he maintained his composure. “My lord, Tyrion decided to return to Casterly Rock after the confrontation at the Gate of the Gods, where Ser Janos Slynt attempted to arrest him. Ser Jaime and your own guards intervened, nearly resulting in bloodshed. Tyrion announced his intentions to leave that day—it was not my doing. As for what I told the City Watch, I merely relayed Tyrion’s last words to me. Whether he truly boarded a ship, I cannot say.”

Arya interjected again, “It’s Ser Slynt’s fault! He’s a greedy, useless oaf who only knows how to ruin things! Besides, the Night’s Watch isn’t supposed to meddle in the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms. What else could my master have done?”

Eddard sighed inwardly. Allowing Arya to stay had been a mistake. Her unrestrained loyalty to Aegor was evident, and she didn’t understand the consequences of her words. He crossed his arms, fixing Aegor with a long, silent stare.

...

Aegor recognized the tactic—a psychological ploy to make him falter. If he let the silence get to him, he’d start second-guessing himself, and once that happened, everything would unravel. The solution was simple: maintain confidence and consistency. Without evidence, Eddard couldn’t convict him.

But knowing this didn’t make the wait any easier. Standing before one of the most powerful men in the realm, shackled and at his mercy, Aegor found it impossible to empty his mind.

Time stretched on. Finally, Eddard broke the silence. “Fine. This time, I’ll consider it a misunderstanding. Hael, unlock his shackles.”

Relief washed over Aegor, but caution tempered his reaction. Was this truly the end, or another trap?

“My lord,” Aegor said, his tone firm, “I cannot accept being pardoned for something I didn’t do. If my innocence isn’t proven, I would rather remain imprisoned until the truth is uncovered.”

Arya groaned. “Master, what’s wrong with you?”

Eddard couldn’t help but smirk. This stubbornness... perhaps he had misjudged Aegor. “Very well. After investigation, I, in King Robert’s name, declare that Aegor West of the Night’s Watch did not interfere in the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms. You are free to go.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

As his shackles were removed, Aegor rubbed his wrists, thanking Hael before leaving the office. Behind him, Arya caught up, grinning from ear to ear. “Master, you’re amazing! I knew you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Don’t say that,” Aegor replied, keeping his voice low. “This isn’t over.”

Though free, Aegor knew he had come dangerously close to losing everything. Moving forward, he would tread carefully, knowing that trust was fragile and power ruled all.