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Surgebinder in Game of Thrones

Plagued666 · Book&Literature
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146 Chs

Kit again

Gendry stared back at the Surgebinder sternly, the young blacksmith having not been pleased being forced to leave his home at Mott's workshop. It had been a day since the delivery of supplies to the Stark loyalists, though the young man's mood hadn't improved since. When the rest of the men learned he was one of King Robert's bastard children, they subtlety treated him with more respect, perhaps because the boy seemed like a splitting image of the late ruler in his youth.

"You've been quiet ever since we've taken you in, Gendry," Jason muttered, leaning back against the nearby wall while the boy sat on a nearby cot. "I know you are not happy with this…"

"Considering I never had a say in it…"

"Yet would you have agreed to leave if I asked you?"

Gendry didn't answer, only fiddling with the bull shaped helm, the same one Jason had seen him working on in the past. The boy stared at it before glancing up back to the Surgebinder. "So what about the others?"

"Others?"

"My other brothers and sisters. The other bastards of my father?"

Jason didn't answer, gaze drifting off to the small dirty window that just showed the open harbour outside. "Nothing we can do for them. Too many to track down…too many with families and livelihoods here."

"So, you are abandoning them." The boy's tone was accusing, spiteful.

"What would you have me do? Trounce into a very damn brothel and poor household that Robert decided to lay in?" The Surgebinder answered back sternly. "I'd like nothing more than to get them to safety, but the risks are too great.

"Then why bother with me?"

"Because Robert went to great lengths to keep you safe and cared for." Jason shifted from the wall, pacing closer to the boy. "When I questioned him about you, he showed such regret. Deep down he wanted to properly raise you but couldn't because of the risks it brings." Stopping before Gendry, he'd hold one hand out for the helm, the Gendry hesitating before handing it over for the Surgebinder to examine.

"I just wanted to stay at the workshop…finish my apprenticeship and start my blacksmith."

"Life is never simple Gendry. I don't expect you to rise up as the next heir to the Kingdoms…that isn't the life you want. Hopefully, you can continue your craft once we're safe with your Uncle or in the North." He'd set the helm beside the boy before moving for the door. "Still, more Kings and rulers could do with your good heart…"

Leaving the room, the young smith glanced back at the helm before shifting up from his bed. Brushing over his short cut hair, he gave a shaky sigh as he felt so many conflicting emotions go through him. Part of him wanted nothing more than to run away from all of this, not be dragged around like some prisoner. He'd glance over at his pack, moving over to it as he'd check over his belongings, debating if he should just risk it and run now.

"No…not yet…" He muttered to himself, calming down as he'd return to his cot as he tried to think of a clearer plan, unknowing that during his shuffle through his pack he had overlooked a small leather-bound booklet that had the city emblem of Qohor marked across its front.

Two more tense days passed for Jason and his companions, the group working tirelessly in preparation for Eddard's trial midday tomorrow. While it was night time, the city was echoing with the sound of horns and bells, open celebration of the crowning of King Joffrey. At the least, the guards would no doubt be hungover and tired for tomorrows events.

The Surgebinder leaned over the meeting table, a larger version of Varys' map laid out across it. He'd glance up at Beric, Davos, Thoros, Syrio and the sixteen other men armed for this mission. They all muttered to each other, hints of uncertainty despite the days of planning. He knew they were all on edge for this, worried of another betrayal like before at the Red Keep.

"Everything feels…to well thought out…too certain," Thoros grumbled as he'd glance over the laid-out routes. "I know you believe Varys, but I sure as hell don't."

"Thoros has a point. This could all be one big trap to crush us all." Beric muttered in hesitant agreement.

The other arms men muttered mixed thoughts, seeming divided as well.

"Are you worrying maids or men?" Syrio accused sharply, making Thoros glance at the short duelist. "If fear and doubt grips you so much, I question how any of you can survive one battle."

"Want to test me Braavosi!?" Thoros growled, giving a bloodthirsty grin as he'd stare down at the shorter man.

"Enough!"

The sharp order from Jason made everyone silent since they never heard the gruff man speak out so loudly. Those cat eyes gazed across the group, unblinking as he examined each person. "You are all right to doubt this mission. I feel just as doubtful that things will play out as expected." He calmly stated. "Lord Eddard knew the risks he was taking when he confronted Cersei. No doubt every death that happened that day haunts him right now." He'd a low sigh as he'd collect his thoughts. "If anything, I'd rather not put any of your lives on the line."

Davos stepped up to the table, staring back at the Surgebinder. "I know deep down you'd prefer to do this alone. You're not one to rely on others…not like this." He stated. "The odds are damn against us, yet I know very well what will happen if we leave that poor girl in the Lannister's hands."

The men gave nods and short remarks of agreements, determination returning to them.

"Then let's go over the plan one last time," Beric added as he'd point over the map. "Right now, Lord Eddard is being held in the cells of the Great Sept for the night, while Sansa remains under watch in the Red Keep. Midday, she along with most of the Lannister family will travel to the Sept on separates routes through the side streets of the city."

Jason nodded before he'd speak up. "Once the trial ends, Eddard should be escorted to the westernmost gate, the Gate of the Gods, to be sent off to the Wall…at least from Varys' estimates. Both the Lannisters and Sansa will return to the Red Keep once again through separate routes." He'd tap his finger over one intersection which Sansa's route arrow passed by. "Here we make our move. We'll surround Sansa's guards quickly and discretely. Then we'll take one of the planned escape routes back to Blackwater Harbor and leave on Davos ship. By the time the Lannisters realize what is going on, we will be long gone."

"So, what if something goes wrong, such as reinforcements or a counter-ambush." Syrio curiously asked.

"I crafted these with what supplies Davos had." Jason gestured to a set of leather-wrapped metal tubes and spheres with fuses across the table. "The tubes are flares, a signalling device that armies back home used. Simple alchemy that creates bright flaming projectile that quickly burns out." He'd then pick up one of the bombs. "Beric and Thoros know about my bombs, handy tools for groups of enemies. These simply give out thick smoke to distract and provide cover, good for quick escapes or an ambush."

"Some interesting tools for sure," Davos commented as he examined one. "Surprised the Maesters haven't crafted such things."

"I'm just as surprised. They should have the knowledge and tools to make such things…" Indeed, innovation was quite stagnant considering the long history the world had, though he didn't let such thoughts distract him now. "Overall these devices can be dangerous if misused, so use them as instructed and only if needed."

However, before anything else could be said, one of Davos crewmen would hurry into the room and approach the Surgebinder. "Uhh…Ser Jason, there is a small issue outside."

"What kind of issue?"

"Some…well…sellsword. A quite intimidating fellow who wants to talk with you."

Worried looks hinted Jason's companions, Thoros and Syrio seeming to have an idea who their intruder was.

"I'll deal with this." The Surgebinder muttered as he'd shift away from the table and head out the door, already drawing out of steel blade. With this individual, he was taking no chances.

" Bloody Hells Jason! Put that damn thing away!" Kit cursed out as he backed away at the sight of the Surgebinder with his sword in hand. Despite the man's surprise, he had his usual smug smirk on his face. The Archer had his hands up away from the sword and dagger at his hips, though the Surgebinder still was on guard for any sudden moves.

"How did you find us?" He sharply questioned. "If you've been followed or told anyone I swear…"

"Calm down already! You think I'm a bad person?"

The Surgebinder's silence was a simple enough answerback, making Kit roll his eyes slightly.

"Alright, maybe I am a bad person. However, I know Cersei's bounty of you and the others is just a ploy. Considering her history of backstabbing, I'm pretty sure I'd be sharing a noose alongside everyone else."

"Still haven't answered my question."

Kit shrugged, guessing it was time to explain himself. "A bit of guesswork and deduction. Everyone was quite baffled at escape, but not me."

"Jason muttered. "Still doesn't explain why you tracked me down."

The Archer shifted a large pack off his shoulder before setting it down between them, then moved away. It was obvious he wanted to give the Surgebinder space since he knew just how fast Jason's reflexes were. Moving to the pack, Jason opened it up to see some familiar items, glowing gemstone and pouches of gold."

"My belongings…" At this point he'd remember leaving them behind, a costly oversight considering his tools would be very dangerous if fallen into the wrong hands. It was a bit embarrassing that he had forgotten all of this during the hectic escape from the Red Keep. "Why?"

"Because I knew better. The first thing is Cersei had the guards raid your room and smash that tough chest of yours. Smart move considering it took them a long while to crack open." Kit casually explained. "A lot of it sent off to the Grand Maester to be studied. Had to sneak in to steal most of it back…though I couldn't snag everything."

"Just hope nothing too dangerous was left behind." Jason picked up the pack and shrugged it over one shoulder. "Thank you for doing this. Surprised you put yourself at risk to do this."

"Oh, I didn't." Kit smirked slyly. "I was given quite a price for it."

"Huh…guess human greed wins out still."

"We all have our vices." The Mistborn shrugged, giving an amused grin seeing the annoyed look on the Surgebinder's face.

"So, is there anything else? I expected Tyrion to have a message pleading for me to leave while I can."

"Guess he realized such words would be wasted considering your conviction and stubbornness. If anything, he's really going to miss chatting over drinks." However, the mercenary gave a small sigh. "Yet I have some personal advice Jason, whatever your plan to do it's not worth it. Cut your losses and go North while you can."

For a long while the Surgebinder didn't answer back, only giving that unblinking stare back at Bronn. "That is the thing about advice. No one needs to follow it." There be a tense pause before he continued. "We'll meet again one day...share a long few tales over drinks."

"Heh, you sound confident on that claim."

"Because I am."

The Mistborn smirked and shook his head, though seemed amused. "Then I'll owe you ten gold dragons if that day comes." Tugging up his cloak hood, he'd give a short saluting wave as he'd back out of the alley. "Try to stay alive Jason. Rather not see your head on a pike back at the Red Keep."

Once the Archer was out of sight, Jason relaxes as he'd sheath his sword. He understood Kit's mentality, focusing on himself before all others. Perhaps there was a reason for his self-centred thinking, some past event that made him that way. However, that was a matter for another time.

Walking around to the back of the warehouse, he'd head back inside to rejoin the rest of the group. He'd make sure to tell some of Davos men to double the watch for any trouble, not wanting to take any chances Kit had been followed or may have lied about giving up their location. He may consider Kit trustable to a degree but couldn't let such feelings blind him to possible risks. He'd return to the meeting room to tell everyone what happened and discuss the minor details of their rescue plan. There were dozens of places everyone had to be and back up plans for any possible situation. He was going to let anything catch them off guard this time, no matter the doubts or risks. One thing was certain, the events of tomorrow would determine the future of all of Westeros.