Snippet #1517485

Raban glanced up from from the book he had been studying when he heard the knock sound outside his door.

"Enter," he said loudly, marking his page before folding the book up and sliding it back onto his dresser. He had been waiting for Oliver for almost an hour, and his patience was wearing thin; it was unlike the man to keep Raban waiting. At last he had sent Pippin out with instructions to find the guard and bring him back at once, and now Pippin had finally returned, though he had brought with him Septon Timon in place of the errant guard.

"Septon Timon? There are no more lessons scheduled for the day."

The greying septon bowed his dignified head and answered, "I have tidings for you, my Prince, some ill and some sweet."

"That will have to keep. I have business to discuss with one of my guards. I thought I had made myself plain to Pippin." He shot Pippin a sharp look, making the serving boy cringe and stare hopelessly out of his wide brown eyes.

"My tidings concern the guard you seek." Septon Timon looked grave. "It seems he met with an unfortunate accident. He drank himself into a stupor and fell from the Tower of the Hand. He was killed. I'm sorry, my Prince. I know he was a loyal servant."

Raban felt his blood run cold. Met with an unfortunate accident? Oliver was no stranger to taverns and whorehouses, but Raban knew for a fact that the man never drank while on duty. Raban had impressed upon him the importance of this task. This was no accident. It was those two sent by Lord Winsler, it had to be. Why else would Oliver die right after being sent to spy on them? Or perhaps... perhaps someone else had done it. Lionel's men? Winslers? Spies? Whoever had killed him, Raban felt certain of one thing: Oliver's death was no accident.

"When did he fall?" he said aloud.

"It seems his remains were discovered shortly after midday."

Would Oliver be wandering around the Tower of the Hand, drunk into a stupor at high noon, when he had been given solemn orders to observe the new arrivals?

Raban rose to his feet. "Where is his body?"

"It was... in bad condition. I believe his remains were taken by the silent sisters, no doubt to the man's family for burial." The septon's eyes searched Raban's face. "But why do you ask such questions, my lord? Something perplexes you."

"Oliver never imbibed while he was on duty," Raban said emphatically.

"Surely not. But it is common knowledge he was wearing civilian clothes, not his uniform."

Nevertheless, he was acting in my service. And I killed him. I didn't know it, but I sent him into danger and now he's dead. I may as well have slain him myself. Raban said, "I'm going to visit the Tower of the Hand, to see what happened for myself."

"Ah," Septon Timon said, "you had best wait until I give you the other tidings. Lady Rhiannon has arrived to mourn the passing of her sister the late Queen. I was walking by the courtyard when I saw her carriage arrive along with a procession from House Bennett. The news of her arrival will reach the King soon, and he will surely want you to greet your aunt."

"I haven't the time for this!" Raban said angrily. "A man is dead, and I... I was his lord."

"A true lord knows his duty. As does a true servant."

Raban blinked, almost on the verge of tears, feeling like a stupid, powerless little boy. "At the very least, let me visit his family and give them the blood-coin," he said in a small voice that was almost pleading, not at all like the commanding voice of a crown prince.

Septon Timon's face was gentle as he drew close to Raban and laid a hand on his shoulder. "No, my lord. Bennett is a powerful house and it will not do to slight them by offending the Lady Rhiannon, however unintentionally. Now the kingdom is at war, we need the support of our bannermen more than ever. It pains me to press you, yet I must. This is the price of duty. The maester's chain, the septon's cloak, the prince's crown, these are all heavy things. Yet we must bear them, though it pains us, for the good of the realm. Now come with me, and let us welcome the Bennetts. There will time for all these other affairs later."

Raban walked slowly from the chamber, his thoughts dull and muted. The last thing he did was issue an order to Pippin. "Tidy my rooms and guard the door. See if you can at least do that properly." Stupid boy, he thought viciously, as they left.