Ch. 5 Confession

"With Euron as our prisoner, the Greyjoys will be unable to attack the Westerlands, without being viewed as kinslayers." My father quickly reasoned.

Uncle Gerion throws his head back and laughs. The merry sound of his voice caused several others to join him in celebration. "The first day of their rebellion and the dumb cunts are already losing!" Uncle Gerion whizzed out between bursts of laughter.

I can't stop myself from joining in on the laughter, the past six hours of been nothing but intense stress and worry. To finally be able to release some of that tension was a joy all its own. It was the best laugh I've had in months.

In a show of good leadership, Tywin wordlessly allowed the council to enjoy this small reprieve. When the men finally had their laughter under control, Lord Tywin adjourned the meeting until after lunch. Before anyone could leave, Tywin assigned each man a task to see to before the next meeting.

As the lords and knights are filing out of the room, I muster up as much courage as possible. Bad news doesn't get better with time, and I don't want this to distract Lord Tywin from leading the army. It's possible I could get away with this, but I'm more likely to be discovered. It's time to confess.

Stepping forward as father is nearing the exit, he stops and looks at me. "Father, would you stay for a moment?" I nervously ask. This is going to be harder than I thought, and having my father near might cause Tywin to be more lenient.

My father curiously looked down at me for a moment before nodding his head. "Of course, what is it, Lancel?" Kevan Lannister asked.

Our exchange was ignored by the others as they swiftly exited the room. Lord Tywin remained seated, silently watching the two of us.

Finally, alone in the room with my uncle and father, I take a deep breath before I begin. Slightly raising my voice so that Lord Tywin can hear, "I have something to confess to Lord Tywin."

Father's face takes on a neutral expression as he wordlessly steps aside. I know Tywin won't kill me, probably, but I can't help anticipating some sort of harsh punishment. And I have no doubt it will be harsh.

Stepping in front of Lord Tywin, I stand at the position of attention and steadily meet his gaze. "Lord Tywin, I gave the order for all ships not in dry dock to patrol Lannisport, and be watchful at night."

Tywin never even batted an eye at my confession. There wasn't any sign of surprise, almost as if he already knew the truth. It was more unnerving than if he reacted in anger. It was unlikely he knew the truth, but what exactly did he know?

"On who's authority?" Lord Tywin softly asked.

Raising my chin, "On my own authority, my lord," I obediently answered.

"You have no authority, boy. Now, on who's authority did you issue this order?" Tywin said with an edge in his voice.

Refusing to admit to treason I didn't actually commit, I steadily recount what occurred. "Last week, when I finished my duties, I scribbled out the order before taking it to Maester Volarik. I told the maester I had just left your solar, and that I had a message I wished for him to rewrite before sending to Lannisport. It is possible Maester Volarik assumed the message was something I wrote for you and signed your name when he rewrote it, but not once did I claim your name, my lord."

Tywin seemed to seethe as he stared down at me. I've never seen him this angry, but I resisted the urge to wilt under his fierce eyes. Regardless of my attempts to stand firm, I hurriedly attempted to justify my actions before he could cast his punishment.

"'Train how you fight, and you will fight how you trained'. And you specifically told me to never consolidate your fleet at port during times of war, my lord." I tried to justify my actions.

"Do you know what this means?" Tywin quietly asked with a dangerous tone in his voice.

Successfully resisting the urge to gulp or break eye contact, I briefly reviewed everything I knew about the battle and how it will affect the future. "This attack told all of Westeros, the Greyjoys are rebelling against the crown. Their first attack, being a surprise attack in the middle of the night, resulted in failure. It will crush the Ironborn's morale and encourage our own forces. Having their ships ambushed by a waiting Lannister fleet will cause the Greyjoys to doubt their spies and intelligence, causing further dissension within their ranks." I gush out in a single breath.

With more air, I quickly continue before anyone can interrupt. "With Euron Greyjoy as a hostage, the Ironborn are less likely to attempt a second attack on the Westerlands, allowing us time to rebuild lost ships and gather forces. And this will send a message to all of Westeros. Even outnumbered three-to-one, the Lannisters are a force to be reckoned with." I summarize every key detail I can think of on such short notice.

With an unimpressed look, Lord Tywin was quick to reprimand. "You manipulated Maester Volarik into issuing an order in my name. An order that would have caused unnecessary expenses and delays in shipping schedules that would have set our merchants back weeks. It was pure luck that the Ironborn were foolish enough to start a rebellion."

I understand I overstepped my authority, I don't deny that, but look at the results! What really goads me is Tywin now looks like the unbeatable monster many believe him to be, and he's giving me shit for an order he should have made himself!

"Luck is when preparation meets opportunity. The fleet was prepared, and the Greyjoys gave them an opportunity," I defiantly state. I made the right call, and he knows it. Even without knowledge of the future, it was still the right decision.

A dangerous glint flashed in Tywin's eyes. "It has come to my attention that I've been neglecting your martial training. Allow me to rectify that. You will be at the training grounds at sunrise to meet with the master-at-arms. I will ensure Ser Broom is aware of the preparations I wish for you. Who knows, by the time you're finished, you just may be the luckiest boy in the known world." Tywin commanded in his deep voice.

I could only stand there and think about what this meant. My martial training was to begin soon, anyway. So, is this really a punishment, or does he intend to make my training hell?

It only takes one look into my uncle's eyes to find the answer. Hell, it is then. This is gonna suck.

"You are excused from your duties for the rest of the day. I recommend you get plenty of rest. Go," Tywin commanded with the full authority of the Warden of the West.

"Yes, my lord," I replied with a bow. Turning towards my father, I respectfully bow towards him. "Father," I state, before making my way to the door. I really shouldn't have smarted off.

"And Lancel," Lord Tywin suddenly called, causing me to stop and face him again. "The only reason I am not having you flogged is that you are my nephew. That will not save you a second time." Tywin promises.

I don't doubt his threat for a second. "Yes, my lord," I reply before swiftly making my way out of the room.

************************************

Kevan Lannister quietly studied his brother before he walked over to the table and took a seat.

Aware of his brother's eyes on him, Lord Tywin turned his attention to the report from Lannisport.

"He flawlessly executed what you taught him. It was the right call," Kevan suddenly stated.

Dropping the parchment from his hand, Tywin angrily looked towards his most competent advisor. "It was not his call to make..." Tywin began.

"And he didn't, you did," Kevan fearlessly interrupted. "You were several days late in giving the order, which can be seen as a strategic ploy to set up an ambush, but none the less, Lord Tywin Lannister gave the order."

"I am perfectly aware of how this will be seen," Tywin responds. "It's the fact he had an order issued in my name and authority."

"Are you saying a boy of seven name days, was able to skillfully manipulate a maester into doing his bidding?" Kevan asked in a deadpan tone. "If anything, Maester Volarik's negligence is to blame."

An undignified snort is Tywin's response. "That boy is far more competent than half the knights in the Westerlands. I am still debating on taking him to Lannisport." Tywin confessed. "If he believes himself capable enough to issue orders to our forces, then he should be able to bear witness to the aftermath of those orders," Tywin said.

The thought of his son walking through the rows of dead men did little to deter the pride Kevan felt. After a moment of enjoying the compliment, "I leave his training to you, Tywin. Now, if you excuse me, I wish to spend time with Dorna before the campaign begins."