Chapter 21
ALYSANNE TARGARYEN
Plague.
And the word stirred up long-lost memories in her heart. Memories from when she had been young and hale, with enough will and energy to ride the Seven Kingdoms atop her Silverwing. When she was not yet old and frail, and her first child had not yet been born.
Even back then, it had begun just like this, with a simple complaint of fever and chills, and what had followed suit was death and tragedy that had taken her first child from her, and a thousand thousand souls from their kingdom.
She had hoped never to see such a disaster come upon her family and her kingdom once more, yet the Gods had other plans, and now, once more, rumors and whispers of a plague were rampant across the lands.
But in the Red Keep, the plague was more than just whispers. It was a cruel reality that threatened to strip her of the love of her life.
"I have to go and see him," she spoke to her son, who stood there outside the gates to his father's room with the Kingsguard blocking her path, as Galen and his healers cared for their King.
"I can not let you do that," Baelon, their son and heir, shook his head as he refused to heed her words for the first time in her life, as he refused to let her near her own husband.
"Baelon," she added in a firmer voice, but her son and his men refused to budge as his lips thinned as he shook his head.
"Please, mother," he said, his tone laced with anguish. As the doors behind him swung open, Galen stepped out, accompanied by the Maesters. Their faces were now shrouded in layers of cloth, and hope began to bubble inside her heart.
"Is it the Plague?" Baelon asked before the words had left her mouth, as both Galen and the Mellos stopped, and answered the question on their own time.
"Yes," the boy healer spoke.
"No," and the Maester whispered a sentiment opposite to their healers as Baelon frowned in frustration.
"What do you mean?" he raged as he heard the contradicting statements.
"Fever, chills, and pustules over the bodies," the young Healer answered in quick sensation.
"These symptoms are consistent with what I saw in the other patients that I believe are afflicted with the plague," and how she gasped at those words, as fear gripped her soul.
"The King is old," Mellos began weakly.
"Pardon, but such ailments are rather common in those afflicted with old age," Mellos began, as Baelon's frustrations only grew and grew.
"Do we have a plague on our hands or not?" he asked angrily, as he looked at the Grandmaester and the Healer, and it was Mellos who spoke first, for with Elysar old and ill, he had taken over most of the duties.
"The Citadel has received no letters or inquiries from any other city, we cannot speak with certainity that we are facing a plague," and that offered some relief and hope, but Galen's shake of the head dashed them all just the next second.
"Just because no other city has made such inquiries does not mean that we are not facing a plague. This disease, I have tracked down more than a hundred cases of it in just the last hour," he implored, and if he were right, then the blow to the Crown would be massive, hence the hesitation of Baelon.
Baelon's conflict was apparent.
"You and your men may be good healers, but you have no experience in recognising, cataloguing, and dealing with a plague. Do you even understand the dire consequences of your being wrong?" Mellos lashed out at Galen, and the clash that Jaehaerys and herself had feared for so long was finally here, as Galen found himself at odds with the Citadel and its maesters, and it could not have been come at a more crucial times.
But Melos spoke true, for admitting that there was a plague rampant within the city came with dire consequences, not just for the city but for the entire realm. It meant an absolute closure of ports, bays, and gates, which would halt all businesses and trade, leading to a loss of hundreds of thousands of gold in commerce and trade.
"Do you understand the consequences for the city and its people if you and your order are the ones in the wrong?" Galen retorted back, and he spoke for the people.
"Thousands will die, Hundreds of thousands," he implored, and she was reminded of the piles upon piles of dead that the Maesters had burned during the last plague, and how one such body had been her own first child.
"ENOUGH!" Baelon's voice tore through their argument as both Mellos and Galen turned silent, and she saw Baelon glance back at her for some guidance, yet she had little to offer in this regard.
This was the first significant confrontation between the Citadel and Galen's healers, and Baelon's decision held tremendous implications not just for the city and its people but for the Crown and its relationship with both organizations as well.
"Your father put his trust in you," and Jaehaerys had only grown weaker and weaker, and in this time, he had made the wise choice of relying on Baelon, who had done them proud to this day.
Yet this was a great test for him, and she saw him recognising that as her son began to pace as he considered the arguments of both sides.
Choosing to side with Galen could help prevent a disaster, yet doing so would mean accepting a great loss of business and revenue, while alienating much of the city, its lords, and merchants.
While siding with the Maesters could exacerbate the situation, and the plague that now threatened to kill thousands could then spread like fire and destroy ten times that many lives.
Her son understood the gravity of the situation and saw exactly what was at stake, and she could see his mind racing as he paced and paced until he turned towards Galen and asked him once more.
"If it is a plague, then can you truly contain it if I close down the city?" he asked, and it was a great ask.
"Hopefully," he answered, and seeing his son's frown, Galen explained quickly.
"It is hard to contain a plague unless you know its mode of spread. I will need time to find that out, then find out all the infected to isolate them, and then try and find a cure," which was all easier said than done.
"How long?" Baelon asked.
"At least two moons," he answered, and that was longer than they had hoped, but the alternative was death and decimation.
"My lord, there is no clear indication that this is indeed a plague," Mellos cut in softly, as the bald master stepped forward.
"Closing the city for two moons just because of this would anger, not devastate, the merchants, traders, and the poor. The ramifications would be disastrous for the Crown," and he was right, but what choice did they have?
"But if we don't do that, and this turns out to be the Plague indeed, then we will have killed a hundred thousand men and women just for some gold," Baelon's decision was made.
"Close the gates and the ports. Order rationing of the food," he turned to the Maester, for while the Healers were plentiful, the Maesters were the ones with the experience necessary to handle such an ordeal.
"And write to the other cities to warn them as well," and so his decision was made, and unhappy as they may be, the Maesters could do nothing to change it.
"And Healer Galen," he turned towards Barth's secret son, as he spoke in a stern tone.
"Two moons. Stop this," and with that, she stepped forward.
"I need to see Jaehaerys," she whispered, and Baelon shook his head.
"You should'..."
"I will see my husband," she declared with finality, as everyone became silent and she walked past them.
"And none of you shall stop me...."
0000
DAEMON TARGARYEN
The street of Silk had become a new home to him, as even Viserys failed to bring down the rage of his father and grandparents upon him. Their constant insistence on his returning to his bitch of a wife had begun to grate on his ears, forcing him to spend his days and nights in this brothel.
The women were happy to cater to him, for the presence of the Prince came with great privileges of protection and reputation, and they were not the only ones who benefited from this transaction.
Mysaria sat there opposite to him, and the girl had been quite a surprise. She had pale white skin and the amethyst eyes of Old Valyria and knew her place and value in front of him, a Prince of blood.
Unlike the rest of the girls around her, she had a sharp mind and knew very well the advantages of attaching herself to his regal self. Daemon himself was happy to indulge her and enjoy what she had to offer.
Which, given her past in Lys, was quite exotic and fun.
"The city is too quiet," he whispered as he took a sip of his wine, as they lay there, bare with nothing but sheer cloth covering little of their bodies.
"There are rumors that they are closing off the gates and the ports," and there was the sharp mind that made her more than just a whore, as Daemon's eyes narrowed.
"Why?" he asked, and she had an answer.
"There are rumors of a plague," and that was quite a disaster, but he had heard of no such thing.
"Some of the girls mentioned that the Healer has asked the King to close off the city to stop its spread," and even here, the Healer was rather famous, much to his dismay, yet Mysaria knew better than most to bring him up in front of him.
"Everyone is afraid that if it is true, the brothels will be the first to empty and the girls shall all go hungry," and he smirked as he thought of their misery.
"Serves them right for trusting that bastard," he cursed, the humiliation from the tourney still fresh in his mind.
"I will take care of you," he assured her, as she gave him a sultry smile.
"That is generous of you, my Prince," and her hand had travelled down his waist with those words as she kissed his neck, as Daemon smirked.
"He is a selfish bastard, one who only hungers for station and position that he has no right to," and his family was too blind to see it. They were simply too happy to push him aside. All of them, the King, his father, and now even his brother, as he slowly infiltrated their castle, with his cunning mind.
This plague.
Daemon knew that all of it was just another ploy for him to gain more support, and later on, the King and Queen would hail praise upon him, and they would marry their precious daughter to him, turning that commoner bastard into a Prince of the Blood.
Preposterous.
"Everyone is simply too blind to see his true nature, but I see it all," he whispered as his fists balled up, yet he was helpless to do anything.
"Then perhaps you should do something about it," and he scoffed, for how could he do anything when his entire family thought nothing of him.
He was nothing but a simple, brash, spare to them, whom they had married off to a spiteful woman to satisfy their own goals.
"The bastard has the support of the people, the lords, and my own family. Even my own brother refuses to hear anything against him, and now with this plague of his, he will only grow more and more popular," and Daemon was tired of trying to save his family.
"It takes little to sway the opinions of the people," she whispered, as Daemon looked into her eyes with some intrigue.
"What do you mean?"
"The people here love and respect this Healer not for what he does, but for what he offers. Hope in their most desperate of times," and that was true.
"You change that, and the people shall love him no more. Sprinkle in some hunger, fear, and desperation, and you can make people burn down temples, and in front of Gods, what is but a young Healer," and he finally understood what she was offering, and his instincts had been right about her.
Mysaria was more than just a simple whore.
"And you can do all that?" he asked.
"Not easily, but yes, I can," and Daemon remembered the humiliation that he had suffered and nodded.
"How?" he asked, for it was not only the love of the Small folk that had elevated him, but also the support of the Royal family.
"That bastard has the support of the King and the Queen," he gritted out, as Mysaria nodded.
"He does, but you see, I heard another rather interesting rumor from the Red Keep," and that was quite interesting.
"It seems like the King has taken ill..."
0000
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