Chapter 302: Madness
Ser Kevan Lannister walked through the sprawling garden maze, his heart heavy as he entered Highgarden.
The situation in the Reach was far worse than he had anticipated. The Horse Faction had already taken Old Oak and Cider Hall.
Their justification? The accusation that the lords of those houses had murdered Mace Tyrell's two sons, Willas and Garlan. Of course, Kevan knew better—it was clear to him that the Horse Faction had driven them to their deaths.
Now, the Horse Faction was demanding that Mace hand over Lady Olenna herself, accusing her of conspiring to assassinate Caesar, one of Highgarden's vassals—a claim that, while true, was still outrageous.
For a group of vassals to pressure their liege lord into surrendering his own mother was a clear sign of how far things had deteriorated.
Kevan understood, however, that the Tyrells were already on the backfoot. The destruction of two key houses loyal to Mace had emboldened the Horse Faction, and this demand for Olenna was likely just the beginning of a larger plan to dismantle the Stag's entirely and divide its lands among themselves.
It was imperative that he stabilize the situation. If the Reach fell completely to Caesar's influence, his power would grow to an unmanageable level.
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Kevan's thoughts were interrupted as he was led to his chambers by a polite steward.
"Ser Kevan, this will be your room. Bathwater has been prepared, and dinner will be served later. If you are hungry, I can ask the kitchen to prepare something for you."
"I'd like to see Lady Olenna first," Kevan replied, dismissing the offer of comfort.
"Follow me, my lord."
Kevan dropped his belongings in his room and followed the steward to a lavishly decorated chamber at the top of the keep.
The room was a testament to Highgarden's wealth and refinement. Myrish carpets lined the floor, and the walls were adorned with fine tapestries from Lys. A folding screen painted with exotic birds and beasts partitioned part of the space.
Behind the screen, Lady Olenna Tyrell sat gazing out of the window. She didn't turn her head as Kevan approached.
"Lady Olenna," Kevan greeted, finding a seat nearby.
It wasn't until his voice reached her ears that she turned her head. Her eyes, cloudy and distant, took a moment to focus on him.
"Kevan Lannister," she said, her voice tinged with weariness. "You still dare to come to Highgarden?"
"Surely the Horse Faction wouldn't dare murder someone within Highgarden's walls," Kevan said with forced levity, trying to lighten the mood.
Olenna gave a bitter laugh. "They dared to kill my grandsons. What wouldn't they dare to do?"
Kevan's expression darkened. "I regret what happened to Willas and Garlan."
"Regret?" Olenna snapped. "Regret won't bring back the dead. You might as well light a candle for them in the Sept."
"I will," Kevan replied evenly, unperturbed by her harshness. "And I assure you, King's Landing will not stand by idly. Mace should declare Randyll Tarly and the Horse Faction's as traitors. The Crown will issue an edict supporting Highgarden—"
"An edict?" Olenna interrupted, her tone dripping with scorn. "What good is an edict? Do you think it will scare those Horses into submission? Will it conjure an army out of thin air? Can you send soldiers to the Reach?"
Kevan's silence spoke volumes.
Seeing his hesitation, Olenna pressed further: "You can't send troops, can you? Let me guess—the Lannisters are tied up in the North, chasing that damned wolf."
Kevan sighed and nodded. "Eddard Stark escaped. My brother, along with Roose Bolton and Lady Arryn, is working to contain him. But rest assured, Lady Olenna, once the North is pacified, Tywin will march south to aid Highgarden."
"And how long will that take?"
"A few months, perhaps."
"Months?" Olenna's voice rose sharply. "Do you think Caesar will give us months? He's probably already flying here on his dragon!"
Kevan tried to sound confident. "The Horse Faction wouldn't dare attack Highgarden. And if Caesar comes… well, what can he do?"
Olenna fixed him with a withering glare. "Have you forgotten that my grandson Loras is still in Caesar's hands? My last grandson. Do you think the Tyrells can afford to wait for your family to finish its business in the North?
"And do you know what my own family says about me? They blame me for everything. They call me a witch, an old hag who ruined the house. Alerie weeps every day, mourning her sons and cursing my name. Mace avoids me altogether. He thinks I've destroyed the Tyrells."
Kevan didn't respond. Inwardly, he thought about how Loras's preferences made him an unlikely candidate to continue the Tyrell line, but he knew better than to voice this thought.
"Why can't Tywin march south now?" Olenna pressed.
"The wolf is proving harder to trap than expected," Kevan admitted. "And his son Robb is a surprisingly capable commander. He defeated Lady Arryn's forces in a skirmish, thwarting an encirclement. But I assure you, the Starks won't last much longer. Winterfell is in our hands, and their supply lines can only hold for so long."
"Don't tell me about eventualities!" Olenna snapped. "Highgarden doesn't have time to wait. Even if I were willing to wait, others in my family wouldn't.
"To them, I'm just an old Redwyne hag. A relic. Nothing compared to Highgarden's last heir."
Kevan caught the subtext in her words. "Do you mean to say…"
"Some of them are already whispering that I should be handed over to Caesar in exchange for Loras. Even Mace might think it, though he's too cowardly to say it aloud."
Kevan was silent for a moment, then rose.
"Lady Olenna, the Lannisters will not abandon their allies. Allow me to speak with Mace. I'm sure I can persuade him to see reason."
Olenna studied him for a moment before turning away. "What can your family even offer to sway my son?"
"That depends on what Caesar wants. Negotiations take time, after all." Kevan emphasized the word "time," clearly suggesting a strategy of delay.
After a moment, Olenna nodded, her lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. "There is one thing that might buy us time."
"What is it?" Kevan asked, relieved to see a glimmer of hope.
Olenna called for two guards and looked Kevan in the eye.
"You."
Kevan froze. "What?"
"You, Ser Kevan."
"Surely you're joking," Kevan said, laughing nervously.
Olenna didn't laugh. "Do I look like I'm in the mood for jokes?"
At her command, the guards seized Kevan by the arms.
"Lady Olenna! I came here to help you! Is this how you treat your allies?" Kevan protested.
"Allies yesterday, enemies today. What's so strange about that? Even Caesar was once my grandson-in-law," Olenna said coldly.
She led the way to the council chamber, where Mace and several bannermen were gathered, their faces grim.
When they saw Olenna enter with Kevan in tow, confusion spread across their faces.
"Mother?" Mace asked hesitantly. "What's going on?"
"I've brought you a solution," Olenna replied, gesturing to the restrained Kevan.
Mace gaped at her. "You mean…?"
"You don't have the courage to hand me over, so give him to Caesar instead," Olenna said bluntly.
Kevan shouted, "Lord Mace! Hear me out! The Lannisters value our alliance with the Tyrells. We share your anger at the Horse Faction's rebellion. King Tommen himself is prepared to declare them traitors—"
"Without an army, the King's decree is just a scrap of paper," Olenna interrupted sharply. "The Lannisters can't spare troops, so they're useless to us."
Mace turned to Kevan. "Is it true? Can your family send no troops?"
Kevan hesitated. "We just need a bit more time…"
"Enough of this," Olenna snapped. "You have two choices, Mace. Hand me over, or hand over Kevan."
"What can I do?" Mace said with a sad face, "My son is still in Caesar's hands. He is my last son!"
"What a joke!" Lady Olenna cursed impatiently, "We only have two choices now. Either hand over Kevan, to show that we have completely broken with the Lannisters and pray that Caesar will let us go, or hand me over. It was me who plotted the assassination of Caesar in the first place. Killing me should make him feel better."
"I would never give you up, Mother!" Mace said, horrified.
"Then it's Kevan," Olenna declared, her voice leaving no room for debate.
Kevan stared at the room, his face pale with fury and disbelief. "You can't do this! I came here as your guest! The gods will curse you for such treachery!"
Olenna's cold eyes met his.
"If the gods have any sense, they'd curse that bastard king on the Iron Throne first."
(End of Chapter)