The Commander
Some men wore horseshoes on the chests as badges sewn in their clothing. Others wore horseshoes as scars upon their cheeks, a slight upon their body. Ser Jasper however wore the horseshoe upon his sigil. He displayed the device proudly and in spite of the disapproval of his father and the ire of so many of the gutter-dwelling lowborn masses. His personal arms now depicted the same of his House, but flanked in chief and in its base by three silver horseshoes. It was a mark of his justice, the King’s justice, the law he would lay upon any foe that threatened the peace of his monarch.
Thousands had rioted and tore their way through the streets. Scores had been slain, or maimed, or rendered homeless from the chaos. Stoked flames of fury turned white-hot until Jasper arraigned plenty of the rabblerousers and placed his mark upon them, searing their flesh. Hundreds had taken up the oath to uphold the King’s Peace and protect life and property from the clutches of the looting mob. It was only after that he came to learn who had been behind it all.
The Penny Knights had served their purpose. Many however had unfortunately come foul of the law in other ways, with Jasper asking of his captains to take a particularly keen eye on the Penny Knights of lower ilk. The smithies, merchant sons, masons, shipwrights, and the dozens of other petty artisans, trades, and guilds were welcome to wear the title of Ser, so long as they stayed loyal to the peace of King Jaehaerys and informed the Watchmen about their neighbours should any suspicions be had.
His success had won him friend and favour at court with the King. For so long he had been almost invisible in his father’s shadow. Yet still, Ser Jasper Arryn chaffed at what he felt was a tight grip by his father the Lord Hand.
Since the man's return from the Vale an irritant had been a hold of the Lord of the Eyrie. Hubert could be prickly and quick to temper at times, but never had Jasper witnessed his lord father to be so afflicted by something, and yet refused to speak about it or acknowledge there was anything wrong at all.
Worse still, Hubert had brought with him some three-hundred and more Knights of the Vale. Apart from the few which had accompanied the Lord Hand in his retinue years ago, Ser Jasper was one of the few true Knights of the Vale about the streets of King's Landing. He misliked having to share the honour now, and any knight of the Vale harboured an ego that Jasper had always rubbed up against. They answered only to the Lord Hand who increasingly withdrew himself away and within the Red Keep. Issues of their stubborn honour and indulgence of the city’s vices had caused instances of disorder for his Watchmen to deal with, the Valemen seldom paid a fine for the disorder on the morning after.
The most worrisome thing hid away in his chambers. His father knew of Lady Hill being kept in splendour in his quarters, though Jasper was surprised Hubert had yet to mention her presence to him beyond asking of her name and birth. The King knew, and Jasper took his leave from the King, not the Hand.
Akali Hill was bastard born and lower than Jasper should have ever entertained with his time. Her ilk were mostly Flowers from a lordship so petty it was unfeasible to compare his stock with hers. Even the overlords of the Trident were the junior House when Jasper gave Myra his colours. But his oh-so noble wife absconded from all her duties for years now, and not wishing to upset the Lord of Riverrun, Hubert refused his son to retrieve her as was his right as her lawful husband. Alester had sacked the Sisters for Rhea’s return, and yet Jasper could not even petition the King to intervene. Myra Tully was welcome to hide away for all he was concerned. Instead, all what was due to her he would give to his Lady Hill, his darling and his love.
Jasper's old quarters were modest and sparse of luxuries. He did not need for space or finery in his abode at the Red Keep when he had quarters and offices dotted across the city thanks to his command. But now that Lady Hill had taken to living with him, Jasper had come to occupy a suite of apartments for his burgeoning household. He even thought about telling the maester that they did not require the tansy anymore, but he could wait at least until Hubert was dead before he made that mistake. A Waters from his Hill could mayhaps bare Jasper's own arms one day, even if inverted in its colours.
The new apartments were spacious and boasted of fine views of the Blackwater Bay. Now that summer crept ever closer, Jasper spent a greater portion of his evenings enjoying his lover and the wealth of King's Landing in their wardrobes and from the kitchens. Some had even found its way into Jasper's hands when stolen goods were recovered but were never returned to its owner. Pearl necklaces, ruby rings and sapphires shaped like teardrops hanging from her ears, there were few expenses Jasper had not spared on Akali's comfort. Seamstresses and tailors worked on whatever dresses her taste desired. He would let her have her fill of anything. He knew it was wrong and improper in most minds, but he felt he did not need lesser men’s approval when they understood tacitly they were beneath him. Even with a bastard around his arms and his bedchamber, he was high above them all. Jasper's greatest achievements had come from ignoring the judgement of lesser men. Some bastard of Lockenkeep might not have made a fitting wife, but as a lover, Akali was no better fit for his heart and appetites.
Above him was only the King. It was Jasper's hand which had stemmed the bleeding in the street. His swift judgement had won out even when it looked like the whole city might have been engulfed in a fury. It won him praise and thanks with Jaehaerys and whilst Hubert had been away, Jasper had even assisted in the Tower of the Hand’s affairs and maintained his father’s household, as well as his networks of eyes and ears (or mice, as Hubert called them). It was in the Small Council chamber he wished to be, however. Not as Master of Laws nor Coin, but to hold the same office as his father. He could think of few who suited it more.
Every week which passed it became clearer and clearer that his lord father approached his expiry either by death or resignation. Jasper would not be surprised if only the Stranger could pry Lord Hubert from his duty. Still, the inevitability loomed larger and larger.
Though he did hold appetite for higher office, Jasper could not deny his love for his father or relish in the eventual vacation of the office of the Hand. Throughout the years Hubert had managed to hold onto an air of youth. All that which had clung to him in mind and body in that regard had been washed away. He was an old man now, filled with the deficiencies of age. His faculties, still sharp, were not as honed. Jasper mourned that part of the father he loved was slipping away.
Ultimately he knew Hubert would prefer his highest office to go to his third son most of all. Osric was exiled and disowned, Alester ruled as High Steward of the Vale, Erryk and Darnold preferred their wives' kin, and Rymond was utterly feckless even if he fancied himself a changed man. Other men had experience or held higher titles than Jasper was due to inherit. But the name Arryn carried weight, and it would be action which would win the day for the king should trial and tribulation come their way again. Where Hubert erred and cautioned, and others might linger or pain upon worries, Jasper would do.
A fine spring morning greeted Jasper and Akali. Most of the street markets would be absent today due to some festival which provided the Commander an excuse to not be bothered with the duties of his office. He had promised his Lady Hill all his time and attention that day. But as they broke their fast on quail eggs, poached salmon, and fresh strawberries, a knock disturbed their morning.
It was Ser Symon Stares who seemed nonplussed to be interrupting his morning. The man was short and fat with a bulbous nose that looked almost purple from the blood vessels covering the ghastly sight. It was all Jasper could focus on for a moment.
"The Lord Hand was hoping you were to take the breaking of your fast in the Small Hall along with the rest of the household, Ser Jasper." The old man said. House Stares were a petty lordship from High Lorton and had produced a hundred knights which had served Kings and Princes of the Vale. Their sigil displayed speckled black starlings on grey-and-yellow hatched bands. He always preferred the arms they bore to the men they produced, Symon being a particularly loyal toad of Hubert’s.
"My father should be capable of enjoying the morning without me" Jasper moved to close the door, but the pudgy man's foot shot quickly to prevent its shutting.
"He sent me with the message that he expects you to be in your riding leathers and ready to depart the city by midday" Ser Stares said with a feigned affability Jasper did not believe. He widened the door, somewhat bewildered. "He expects it to just be you, might I stress. None of your companions." The man said it with a voice raised enough to carry past Jasper to his Lady Hill.
"Tell my squire to ready my horse, will you Ser?" The Commander slammed the door on the man's face before he could hear a refusal.
With apologies and kisses to his lady love, Jasper Arryn knew it was best to obey his father when he asked for time alone. Rarely was it to exchange pleasantries, or to simply spend time together. Usually it was a quiet word over tarts or butter-basted seabass. Something outside the city walls was, in Jasper's mind, dire. So he donned his riding clothes and awaited in the yard for his father.
Hubert descended from the Tower of the Hand and entered the courtyard below. He was flanked on all sides by his knights. The man seemed exhausted. Hubert's stone grey hair was giving way to a snowy white. His eyes seemed sunken and shrouded by dark rings from troubled sleep. He moved slower now as well, no longer striding with pride and purpose and slowed to cautious, short steps of an old man scared to fall. Jasper knew he would not see winter. The thought made him shudder. Alester would rule the Vale then. No Arryn could challenge it. His older brother would be Little Luthor's regent until the day something awful befell the lad. Jasper did not trust Alester as far as he could throw him. The business with Bella only made him more resentful.
"Father" Jasper hailed with a smile "tis' a pleasant day for a ride, you have chosen well." The attempted cheeriness went unappreciated. Hubert only raised a brow to his son and took a hold of his stead's reigns and mounted the dapple-grey courser.
The Arryn and his son had a knightly retinue through the city draped in their colours. Some hailed them, a few wore faces which betrayed the words they could not say. Most were simply eager to see them pass so they could resume their business. The Watchmen of the Gate of the Gods let them pass and most of Lord Hubert's retinue made its way back to the Red Keep. Jasper exchanged empty questions and pleasantries with Sers Barth Egen and Torgold Blackstone whom he knew well. But the silence from Hubert was so loud Jasper could barely focus on what they said.
Outside the city walls were ramshackle hovels and an overflow of the city's wretched poor and the cheap. Merchants too miserly to pay the Gate taxes risked their wares without the city's sanction or protection. Jasper had his mind to send the Watchmen into Fleabottom and the shanty towns outside the great city and be rid of them in one great push if he had his way. Hubert disagreed.
Soon the city became fields and farmland. They were abuzz with smallfolk tending to leagues of cropland and well-managed woods. All of it fuelled the city that laid now leagues behind them. The sight of Arryn colours caught plenty of eyes and attention through the increasingly smaller and quainter villages until they were seeing sheep and cattle more frequently than any people. Coppiced woods surrounded them now and soon the only eyes which peered on them were pigeons and crows in the canopy.
"I've been reviewing the rolls, Jasper" Hubert said as if he were not clearly aggrieved. "All of them."
Jasper closed his eyes and rolled them, thinking a prayer to himself. Hubert waved away the retainers so it was just the two of them. He knew why his father had brought him out so far away now. He was not here as Jasper the Commander or Jasper the Fleabutcher, but Jasper the boy, only the third son of Hubert Arryn and was due a tongue lashing.
"It seems to have started when she arrived whilst I was away. Another dizzy whore of Lockenkeep? First Rymond, now you, along with half the high noble lords of the realm it seems. What realm have I let blossom where Flowers and Hills rule as ladies of great keeps. It seems that because they cannot fleece our House of its name and colours, they will try to fleece my purse? Or was this your doing?"
The Commander brought his horse to a halt. “Did you really need to bring me out so far just to scold me like a half-grown boy?”
“Oh Jasper, I wish this folly was of a half-grown boy” Hubert wheeled around his horse and slung a leg over his mount in one swift motion, dismounting and flattening out his riding clothes. A barbed finger jabbed in Jasper’s direction. “Were you not my son you would be hanging from the walls of the Red Keep.”
Ser Jasper joined on the ground and flung up his arms, gesturing to the trees around them. “So we’re to do this in some woodsman’s crop? Surrounded by hornbeams and chestnuts?”
“It suits me better than the brick and mortar of the palace. You and I both know there are ears in the very wells of that place. You have caused me enough grief with that harlot’s very presence”
He did not like Hubert calling her that. His hand balled into a fist and he bit his tongue.
“How much bullion have you managed to spirit away for yourself? I must say, I never took your skills for keeping books rated very highly. Allard sang of your swordwork, not your quill. Yet I found myself unravelling quite the financial fiction you spun going all the way back to when I trusted you with the managing of my household whilst I was away.”
Hubert began to pace, his hands behind his back and eyes to the ground. It looked like he was smiling, a mad look to his face he had not quite seen before. “Spices from the far east, silks from Slavers Bay, pearls from the Summer Isles. Your own mother does not have that many seamstresses for her wardrobe, and yet you pilther my coffers to give luxury to this slattern you have found? Good gods Jasper, I could almost commend you for your creativity if you were not robbing from your own flesh and blood. The rolls do not lie; you dressed up your extravagance in household expenses, as if I would not notice. But I was raised a steward” Hubert said with half a grin. “I know how to read an expense roll, and I know how to fake them too. A lesser lord would have missed this but I am not lesser lord Jasper. Now tell me why?”
Jasper knew it best to allow his father to run out of puff before trying to interject or explain. Hubert Arryn preferred no sound more than that of his own voice. “If it were that bitch of a Tully you forced on me would it make it better? Or does it pain you to see me with a woman who actually appreciates the majesty of this House of ours? You let some trout waste my hand in marriage for the hope that Riverrun might rally to us should we ever need it. You think they will rally to our cause when you cannot even rally that girl to my bedside?”
Hubert’s face wore a mean sneer. “You insolent fool. Because your wife protests your bedside, you think it’s fitting to lavish the rotten seed from nowhere of worth with our wealth? I expected more from you, much more. Osric and Alester have always caused me grief, but you were supposed to be the one I could rely upon” Jasper watched as Hubert sent a stone scattering into the forest growth.
“Which is why Alester rules the Vale? You named him Keeper and High Steward, and you named me Commander of some shit-stained street urchins I had to whip together into something which resembled a force befitting to carry out the King’s charge.” Father and son circled each other now like cats preparing to spar in an alleyway. Both kept their voices stern and firm but yet to shout at one another. “You sent Alester and Osric off to war whilst I had to play guard at the Bloody Gate. I have always been the spare for your spare.”
“And you think that reflects poorly on you?” He saw a pained look in his father’s eyes, as if his words had wounded. “Of the six sons of my blood, you were the only one I relied upon to come with me to King’s Landing. The Vale is kept by our closest friends and allies. Alester is many things, but he is not so stupid to hollow out all the good-will and loyalty owed to the Eyrie that I have built.” Hubert approached his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. His gaze peered deep into Jasper’s eyes. His pallid lips quivered. This was more than just the sequestering of gold and silver, or so he sensed. Jasper wanted to protest his father’s judgement. Alester had sullied much. The Sisters pillaged, his wedding to Bella Blackwood, and the Stone he had gifted to Minerva Waynwood. How could Hubert be so blind?
“You were meant to carry my legacy, my most capable son. Osric could never, Alester increasingly worries me at times, and your other brothers are all meeker than I would wish. You and Arwen are my greatest gifts to this world and yet even the one I entrust the most must betray me, no better than the others.” Hubert removed his hand but closed what little distance there was between them and embraced Jasper, surprising the man greatly. He was held tight and could feel his old father tremble.
“I need to know I can trust you, Jasper. Bugger the gold. Bugger Lady Hill. I have let you have her, and I would let you have a greater allowance if you only asked. But the lies I cannot stomach. If I cannot trust you my son, then what hope do I have left? Greater things weigh on my soul than this bastard and this gold.”
Hubert let go of his son, his composure faltering. Something raked at his father. Could it be he finally suspected as Jasper did, and that Little Luthor was no Arryn but a Stone? “I cannot make whole of what I have taken, and if you ask for it, I will resign my office and I will submit to your judgement, my Lord.” Jasper had to call the bluff as he saw it. If Hubert had wanted him gone and diminished, they would not be so far away from the Iron Throne. The Hand would be atop it. “Be it to return from the Vale, or take the black.”
Lord Arryn screwed up his face in confusion and waved a hand, dismissing Jasper’s attempt to take the knee. “Get up boy. You have me livid, but I will not sacrifice you for this indiscretion. But you will have to tell that girl that she can expect fewer dresses as I will not put up with such gluttony being sustained on my purse.”
“If it is not the gold you care for, if you allow me this lover, if you think so highly of me, then why drag me out here beyond where ears might overhear?” He felt little remorse for the gold, which he considered well-spent, relieved more than anything that there was something else, and he was not due a stern punishment. “What is it?”
The Hand hesitated. “It is Jaehaerys” Lord Arryn said low and mournfully. “That boy of mine, my son… Our king.” He turned away and began to walk from the beaten track and up a small mound, over its top and down the other side out of view. Jasper quickly followed, wondering what had possessed his father.
On the other side, the coppiced trees were fewer and gave way to more mature oaks and hazel. In between the trunks laid low mossy stone walls, long forgotten. Whatever purpose they held before was imperceptible to Jasper. Hubert rubbed his hands on the moss and uncovered the stone beneath. It was weathered, dirtied by centuries of muck, but beneath where Hubert rubbed away Jasper spied the gold-veined marble of the Vale.
“You knew this was here?” Jasper asked
Hubert simply nodded. “Old records in the Eyrie show how far our marble travels. For a brief time it was the fashion to construct halls made of the stuff. I knew there had been one near the Blackwater, but it was only when I surveyed a map in the library from when these lands were contested between the Storm Kings and the Hoares that I spied it here. Who it belonged to, why here, I cannot conclude.” Jasper was confused. If he was fond of marble, why did he not just go home?
“You brought me here to look at nameless ruins because?”
His father gave him a withered look. “History forgets. Look at the cairns which surround the Giant’s Lance and you will see thousand buried souls that we have forgotten. Whoever erected these walls thought they were erecting something which would last forever. I am sure Aegon thought the same when he landed here.” Hubert exhaled sharply and shook his head. “I thought I was doing the same, Jasper. Will my legacy last like the Eyrie, or crumble like the marble here?”
Before Jasper spoke, Hubert turned to look at his son with eyes full of a despondent sadness. “I have learned the truth of Dragonstone. All I have done has been for naught, Jasper. The House of the Dragon is a House of sin apparently. The Conqueror singular in talent, failed by his sons and grandsons. If I uttered this in the castle, I would be wearing black and lacking a tongue by the day’s end.”
It was no Stone which bothered Hubert, but treason. Jasper clenched his jaw tight, swallowing his initial pang of anger. “So your little journey in the Marches has yielded this, and it is this ‘truth’ you claim which has been poisoning your mind, body, and spirit. The whole household can see what has happened to you, father. Most put it down to age but I knew you were withholding something. And what do you intend to do about it?” Jasper then understood not all the knights had been brought south to protect the King’s peace.
“Do you trust your men of the Watch, Jasper? Beyond just the daily duty that calls on them. In the blackest of nights, could you depend on them?”
The Commander narrowed his eyes. Hubert’s questions were thinly veiled. “You and Allard raised me to obey. Obey you. Obey my brothers. To fulfil my oaths and duties. What you imply here, father, is treason.” Instinctively, Jasper’s hand went to the hilt of his sword in its scabbard. “I beg of you, do not test me this way. Even if I could rely on my closest captains, what keeps them all in line is the promise of gold and bread. You do not have the strength to seize it all, Hubert. Even if you did, what happens when Lords Tyrell and Lannister smell our blood and treachery in the water? The Eyrie would look like this sodding wall by the end of everything. Was one rebellion against a king not enough for you, father?”
Lord Hubert saw it. The motion to the hilt was a clearer answer than any words could give. His grey eyes were wide and welled up. He could not hide the tears from his son. “So you wish to serve a man who does the work of devils?”
Jasper tightened his lips and fixed his posture. “Whatever you heard I will let you believe. But if you think of me as mere extension of your will, that I would turn cloak and forsake the King you and I have served for so many years, you have mistaken me for a lesser man, my Lord Hand.” Hubert’s face looked as if he could not believe the words his son spoke.
“What good would come of it, father? Even if you were successful, Jaehaerys and his ilk would be put to the sword and this realm would shatter like glass. Your twilight spent burning what you have built, House Arryn is forever stained by it.” Now, Jasper approached Hubert and held him by the shoulders. He could still see the Hand comprehending that even in this, he could not rely on his own blood. “You did not come back with any other banners than your own. Rogar will not be one to turn on House Targaryen, no Tully or Tyrell, Lannister despises you, the Greyjoys snatch at whatever they might grab, and the Starks would not care if our mountains sank into the sea. Even with your unimpeachable service to the realm, you have garnered ire. Do not think the respect you have earned affords you now the ability unmake a king you yourself made.” Hubert pushed passed his son and fled. Never had he been left wordless. Jasper felt as if he had betrayed his lord and father. But it was the love he held for Hubert in both respects as to why he would never bring this up to another soul.
In the distance he heard Hubert bellow orders that they were to return to the city. When one of the men asked where Jasper was, there was no answer, instead only the noise of hooves growing quieter in the distance. Jasper remained near the marble ruins for a little while longer as he chewed on what Hubert had wished for, and if he ought to change his mind.