Game of Thrones Tales: The Ultimate Game:Book I-Back to the Throne Room

Part IX...

Game of Thrones Tales: Back to the Throne Room...

Summary: There's only one solution when Tyrion and Sansa have found the new King as mad as the Mad Targaryen and cynically evil, once on the throne, as Joffrey. So evil he's happily allowed the world to be invaded by unspeakably hideous creatures from some little planet out on the spiral rim of the Galaxy, to secure his reign of terror.

Part IX...

Maoooo... A long moaning bellow...

Sudden stirring caused the source of the bellowing, a somewhat distressed pregnant cow to back off in fright...While leaving a gift behind.

"Ahhhhgggh..." the voice of a young woman, rising out of the straw of the rather battered barn stall.

"Thanks so much, milady..." she fumed at the retreating cow who'd calmly returned to munching on her breakfast feed. The woman wiping at the bit of mess on her sleeve...Groaning as she found she'd just stepped into a far larger pile.

"Mercedene"...A hissed call from the barn door...She looked over to see the chubby boy at the door.

"Pie...What did you find?" she moved to the door, cautiously opening.

"Bread..." he handed over a loaf of bread. "A bit of coin was on the kitchen table too..." he handed her a few coppers. "And..." grin... "This..." He handed over a cell phone. She eyed it.

"So...These aren't just 'ordinary farm folk, just startin' to rebuild their lives'..." she mimicked the words of the rather young farmer's wife who'd agreed to let them spend the night in her barn in exchange for the boy's wood-chopping and "Mercedene"'s fetching stream water and helping with the cows the afternoon before, the woman's husband being away to market.

"Guess not unless the Dirters are givin' these things away now..." the boy nodded at the phone his companion held.

I could reach them with this...She thought, eyeing the device. I could call Jon or Sansa... Tell them I am back, here in Westeros.

Of course the Dirters would hear, they surely monitor every conversation on these things...Though they might find it confusing... To hear the sister of the wife of the Defense Minister and Hand pleasantly informing her sister or her half-brother that, yes, she was indeed quite well and in Westeros, traveling. Really, given Arya Stark was officially guilty of nothing...In fact would be a welcome guest in the capitol, it wouldn't be any major difficulty...

Mercedene, on the other hand...Actress, inn-servant...Prostitute, at least by reputation in some places, though thankfully she'd managed to kill all clients before any deeds of darkness were done as yet...Undocumented Bravvosian...Wanted murderess. Now she, if identified, would have problems with both the Dirters and the Westeros guardians of the peace.

"Ar...Mercedene..." the boy hissed. "Mistress Hanuk'll be up soon, I'm sure...It's late for a farmer now."

"Ay..." Arya nodded. "But she's no farmer's wife."

"I done tole you that..." he frowned. "Her hands are a lady's, didn't I say?"

"Not a lady's..." Arya shook head. "She's one of them."

"A Dirter? Bloody hell...She don't smell like one." The boy shook head. "And why would a Dirter pretend to be some nobody farmer's wife?"

"That's what worries me..." Arya noted. "Pie, I don't think we ought to be goin' just yet. I want to know why this Dirter wants to play at being one of us."

"But here..." Pie frowned. "How do you know she's a Dirter? Maybe she's just some small lord's girl who needed a place, met a farmer who could put food on the table and was glad to have him. What's the proof?"