A dangerously sharp mind
POV Duncan
Torrhen Square.
Year 280 A.C.; the eighteenth day of the eighth moon...
Practically a year had passed since Lady Myra's arrival. The Citadel's white raven, heralding the beginning of winter, arrived three days after her coming.
It was difficult to distance myself from the woman who, for all intents and purposes, became my mother. I was taken care of with the utmost love and care.
The announcement of a pregnancy also followed. Four months after her arrival, Myra told her new family the sweet news.
My father threw a big party, sparing no expense, and everyone in the castle was invited. During the banquet, I showed everyone my abilities as a protective and loving older brother-to-be. I was genuinely happy with the news. I quickly became attached to my new family, and Myra, was part of it. I was apparently too young to show any signs of comprehension, but my performance convinced them just enough.
I still had no clear idea of my abilities.
According to the contract, I was supposed to be able to gauge the level of any person within thirty feet of me and use a trick among the Druid class spells. Nothing, however, seemed to blossom from my abilities. I was able to catch a glimpse of my father's level and that of my uncles, by accident near to the Heart Tree, and then nothing more.
One day, before nightfall, I managed to sneak outside the walls to try to reach the Godswood. It was not an easy task. Apparently, I was three years old, and I was guarded to the fullest.
Winter was in full swing. The ground crackled under the frost, my breath condensed into little clouds outside my mouth, I was fully bundled up I could barely move. The wool, which was so thick as to be heavy, stiffened my joints.
By chance, though I was caught by the captain of the Guard watch, Tom, I managed to convince him and have him escort me in his arms. I had pointed out the forest with some persistence and the man had gone soft. He knew how much I enjoyed walking through the woods.
I was finally alone inside the Godswood. I couldn't waste this opportunity that was more unique than rare.
Standing in front of the majestic Heart Tree with a sculpted face, I began to breathe slowly and closed my eyes.
The strange calming energy began to flow through me. I inhaled and exhaled for minutes on end. Nothing seemed to change when I felt a small, unnatural impulse: I wanted to touch the tree.
I was attracted to it, but the closer I reached out my hand, the more my instinct for danger grew.
Alas, curiosity kills a man...
I touched the tree and a tidal wave of information seemed to sweep over me: design, testing of boats and ships, knowledge of crops and all the trees known to us, plus a myriad of other details.
The speed at which it was flowing was worrying, my head was beginning to boil from the overload, and at the limit of pain, I abruptly broke the connection.
My temples hurt like hell, and I felt rivulets of blood coming out of my nose and ears. Now it was clear...
My mind still couldn't assimilate all that knowledge! Thinking back I still couldn't remember all the information I had learned from Seraphinus!
I hadn't noticed it at first because the information left behind was nonetheless gargantuan.
"You idiot, you could have blown your head off!", I scolded myself. 'I still have a child's body with undeveloped organs, it's normal that I can't remember everything. I guess that's also why I can't use magic yet! Damn it, this isn't a game where you have an indestructible virtual body! You're made of flesh, bones, and blood!'
I cleaned the blood as much as I could with mossy, leaves, and snow.
'If my father or Lady Myra saw a single drop, they would lock me in a room with twenty men guarding the door until I came of age,' I thought terrified.
I came out of the little forest; there was Captain Tom waiting for me. I noticed him immediately, clear as day. The number [7] floated above his head.
'After all the risk and pain I've gained something!' I thought excitedly.
It took me a few days to get used to it. Now I could turn the ability on and off at any time.
I analyzed almost every person in the castle and got more or less an idea by asking around and learning about 'life experiences'.
In a situation of neutral terrain, equal weapons, and equipment:
Level [0] = Zero fighting ability. The person has neither the ability nor the will to defend themselves.
Level [1] = Peasant who is brandishing a weapon for the first time and fighting.
Level [2] = Peasant who has been trained superficially for a month, with few resources.
Level [3] = Soldier with no experience, trained for three months, poor results.
Level [4] = Soldier who received training, has decent talent with a type of weapon and has faced danger at least once.
Level [5] = A Soldier trained for at least three years, with high means and resources, who has faced danger multiple times.
Level [6] = The skill similar to that of a knight-errant serving in small and large conflicts.
Level [7] = Knight with years of hard training and fighting behind him, a high level of talent in the use of multiple weapons.
Level [8] = Fighter who has lived between life and death several times and shows natural talent in hand-to-hand combat, excellent survival techniques.
Level [9] = I have no idea yet and don't want to find out.
Level [10] = I hope to never face him in battle, in fact, I hope to make an ally out of him.
Most of the castle's militia was level [4].
Oddly enough, the blacksmith Will in my dad's service was level [7]!
Take note: never piss off that nice guy Will.
'Useful,' I realized. 'All this is highly useful.'
As more time passed, I showed more vigor in my verbal skills and made it clear to my father that I wanted to 'learn to read'. He was reluctant at first, and I didn't blame him - I wasn't even four years old!
He gave in after an artful pout.
I took lessons with maester Golbarth, level [0], and began my fictitious learning. For three whole months, I had to simulate basic errors. Despite my carefulness, Golbarth informed my father of my thirst for learning and reassured him of my promising future.
Trickery, harmless childishness and well-timed questions led me to discover more about the Maester at Torrhen's Square service.
Golbarth Hill was his real name; he was the bastard son of a cousin of Tytos Lannister, Tywin's father. From there I forced myself to be careful, he could very well have confirmed himself as a Lannister spy.
When I wanted to validate some of my suspicions, I waited for a window of opportunity to inspect the maester's office. After all, I was still strong in my 'I'm only a child and I don't know what I'm doing' armor. Maester Golbarth came out of his office to give his usual monthly report to my father on the general situation in the Tallhart lands. I already knew where to check.
I climbed onto my chair to reach his desk drawer and found it. Golbarth would open and close the drawer several times. As I approached it in his presence, I noticed an abnormal sense of unease and worry plastered on the man's face. An imperceptible double-bottom that opened by pressing at a lever point. There were two rolls.
I quickly opened the unsealed documents and scrutinized two reports. Both reported in detail everything that had happened over the past month in the Tallhart lands.
'The bastard also reported my success in my studies and that I had a 'dangerously' sharp mind!', I thought angrily. "Oh, oh maester, you don't know how right you are!"
I searched to the end for every possible clue on the two recipients and found them.
On one a more detailed and precise report, Golbarth had written the word 'Archmaester'. On the other report despite not mentioning anyone, I sensed less formal and more familiar language.
'The citadel and the Lannisters...' I clenched my small fist tightly. 'Golbarth is a bloody triple agent! Lady Barbrey Dustin was right.' Most masters are probably filthy gray rats.
The Lannisters aren't a threat yet and I feel pretty confident about the future. Tywin is cunning, wealthy, and ruthless and should not be underestimated, of course, but he is also an intelligent, reasonable, and predictable person. He's not someone who would seek out unnecessary conflict that he's not sure he can prevail in.
Cersei is literally the malignant tumor of the house and kingdom. A woman who has succeeded in almost every move to weaken the Lannisters. For goodness's sake, I don't doubt that blowing up the Temple of Baelor was a good move, but she created this whole mess! She practically put a loaded gun in the High Sparrow's hand, drew a target on her chest, and screamed: 'Shoot, if you dare! A lion can't be hurt by a bullet!''
But the Citadel… if my assumptions were correct, would have represented one of the most dangerous.
The wise maesters pretended to be weak and helpless without any power in their hands, but this was not the case. They were almost certainly the main cause of the fall of the Targaryens, trying to prevent the return of magic by any means and guarding its secrets; most importantly, they had direct control over untold numbers of people. The Citadel was almost certainly the reason why research and progress would remain in the muck.
I put everything back in order and returned to my reading, 'Dance of the Dragons'.
It was not yet time to act...
"War is won before it is fought."
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