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Eddard

Lord Arryn’s death was a great sadness for all of us, my lord," Grand Maester Pycelle said "I would be more than happy to tell you what I can of theDo be seated Would you care for refreshments? Some dates, perhaps? I have sorees with estion, I fear, but I can offer you a cup of icedin this heat"

There was no denying the heat; Ned could feel the silk tunic clinging to his chest Thick, moist air covered the city like a darown unruly as the poor fled their hot, airless warrens to jostle for sleeping places near the water, where the only breath of as to be found "That would behimself

Pycelle lifted a tiny silver bell with thu serving girl hurried into the solar "Iced ’s Hand and myself, if you would be so kind, child Well sweetened"

As the girl went to fetch their drinks, the Grand Maester knotted his fingers together and rested his hands on his stomach "The smallfolk say that the last year of summer is always the hottest It is not so, yet ofttimes it feels that way, does it not? On days like this, I envy you northerners your summer snows" The heavy jeweled chain around the old man’s neck chinked softly as he shifted in his seat "To be sure, King Maekar’s su There were fools, even in the Citadel, who took that to mean that the Great Summer had come at last, the summer that never ends, but in the seventh year it broke suddenly, and we had a short autu winter Still, the heat was fierce while it lasted Oldtown steaht We would walk in the gardens by the river and argue about the gods I rehts, , peaches and pomy chain The heat did not exhaust me as it does now" Pycelle’s eyes were so heavily lidded he looked half-asleep "My pardons, Lord Eddard You did not cootten before your father was born Forgive an old s, if you would Minds are like swords, I do fear The old ones go to rust Ah, and here is our irl placed the tray between theave her a smile "Sweet child" He lifted a cup, tasted, nodded "Thank you You irl had taken her leave, Pycelle peered at Ned through pale, rheumy eyes "Nohere e? Oh, yes You asked about Lord Arryn"

"I did" Ned sipped politely at the iced milk It was pleasantly cold, but oversweet to his taste

"If truth be told, the Hand had not seemed quite hiether on council ns were there to read, but I put thereat burdens he had borne so faithfully for so long Those broad shoulders eighed down by all the cares of the realm, and more besides His son was ever sickly, and his lady wife so anxious that she would scarcely let the boy out of her sight It was enough to weary even a strongSht at the tiave a ponderous shake of his head

"What can you tell me of his final illness?"

The Grand Maester spread his hands in a gesture of helpless sorrow "He ca after a certain book, as hale and healthy as ever, though it did see hi he isted over in pain, too sick to rise froht it was a chill on the stomach The weather had been hot, and the Hand often iced his wine, which can upset the digestion When Lord Jon continued to weaken, I went to hirant me the power to save him"

"I have heard that you sent Maester Colemon away"

The Grand Maester’s nod was as slow and deliberate as a glacier "I did, and I fear the Lady Lysa will never forgive ht it best Maester Colemon is like a son to me, and I yield to none inofttimes do not co Lord Arryn asting potions and pepper juice, and I feared heto you during his final hours?"

Pycelle wrinkled his brow "In the last stage of his fever, the Hand called out the na for his son or for the king I could not say Lady Lysa would not perht be taken ill The king did co of ti Lord Jon’s spirits His love was fierce to see"

"Was there nothing else? No final words?"

"When I saw that all hope had fled, I gave the Hand the milk of the poppy, so he should not suffer Just before he closed his eyes for the last ti and his lady wife, a blessing for his son The seed is strong, he said At the end, his speech was too slurred to co, but Lord Jon was at peace after that He never spoke again"

Ned took another s ofon the sweetness of it "Did it see unnatural about Lord Arryn’s death?"

"Unnatural?" The aged maester’s voice was thin as a whisper "No, I could not say so Sad, for a certainty Yet in its oay, death is theof all, Lord Eddard Jon Arryn rests easy now, his burdens lifted at last"

"This illness that took him," said Ned "Had you ever seen its like before, in other men?"

"Near forty years I have been Grand Maester of the Seven Kingdo Robert, and Aerys Targaryen before him, and his father Jaehaerys the Second before him, and even for a few short on the Fortunate, the Fifth of His Name I have seen more of illness than I care to remember, my lord I will tell you this: Every case is different, and every case is alike Lord Jon’s death was no stranger than any other"

"His wife thought otherwise"

The Grand Maester nodded "I recall now, theis sister to your own noble wife If an old rief can derange even the strongest and most disciplined of minds, and the Lady Lysa was never that Since her last stillbirth, she has seen enemies in every shadow, and the death of her lord husband left her shattered and lost"

"So you are quite certain that Jon Arryn died of a sudden illness?"

"I aood lord, what else could it be?"

"Poison," Ned suggested quietly

Pycelle’s sleepy eyes flicked open The aged ht We are not the Free Cities, where such things are common Grand Maester Aethelmure wrote that all men carry murder in their hearts, yet even so, the poisoner is beneath conteht "What you suggest is possible, e maester knows the cons And the Hand was loved by all What sort of monster in man’s flesh would dare to murder such a noble lord?"

"I have heard it said that poison is a woman’s weapon"

Pycelle stroked his beard thoughtfully "It is said Women, cravensand eunuchs" He cleared his throat and spat a thick glob of phelm onto the rushes Above them, a raven cawed loudly in the rookery "The Lord Varys was born a slave in Lys, did you know? Put not your trust in spiders,Ned needed to be told; there was so about Varys that made his flesh crawl "I will remember that, Maester And I thank you for your help I have taken enough of your time" He stood

Grand Maester Pycelle pushed himself up from his chair slowly and escorted Ned to the door "I hope I have helped in some small way to put your ht perfor," Ned told him "I should be curious to examine the book that you lent Jon the day before he fell ill"

"I fear you would find it of little interest," Pycelle said "It was a ponderous toreat houses"

"Still, I should like to see it"

The old man opened the door "As you wish I have it here somewhere When I find it, I shall have it sent to your chahtaway"

"You have been ht, he said, "One last question, if you would be so kind Youwas at Lord Arryn’s bedside when he died I wonder, was the queen with him?"

"Why, no," Pycelle said "She and the children werethe journey to Casterly Rock, in coht a retinue to the city for the tourney on Prince Joffrey’s na to see his son Jaime win the champion’s crown In that he was sadly disappointed It fell to me to send the queen word of Lord Arryn’s sudden death Never have I sent off a bird with a heavier heart"

"Dark wings, dark words," Ned ht him as a boy

"So the fishwives say," Grand Maester Pycelle agreed, "but we know it is not always so When Maester Luwin’s bird brought the word about your Bran, the e lifted every true heart in the castle, did it not?"

"As you say, Maester"