Chapter 115 – No Kings

[300 AC]

Scurrying through the palace corridors as fast as his old legs could carry him, Pycelle put on an anxious and fearful expression, even though in truth he wasn't really worried about surviving the sacking of the city by the Southern army.

He was after all a Maester of the Citadel and the Grandmaester of the small council on top of that, and no intelligent ruler would kill a Maester and risk antagonizing the Citadel, especially not a Southern Lord.

The Citadel's influence and standing in the Reach were comparatively the highest amongst all the Kingdoms in Westeros as the Citadel was located in Oldtown, the greatest port city in the Reach and possibly all of Westeros.

Oldtown was also the richest city in the Seven Kingdoms and second in population only to King's Landing, giving the Citadel a great base of power.

With Renly Baratheon's wife being Maragaery Tyrell, sister to the heir of Highgarden, who were the rulers of the Reach, Pycelle knew that he might lose his position as Grandmaester, but his life was not in any serious danger during the siege.

He would just stay in his chambers until the castle was taken and then swear his allegiance to the Baratheon boy, though it was a pity that he wouldn't be able to see if his scheme against the Red Temple could have worked, as Pycelle was sure that the Queen Regent and her children would most likely not survive the night.

It was a shame, but maybe it was for the better considering that House Lannister was already tied tightly to the temple. In comparison, House Tyrell and Baratheon had hardly any ties with them, which might make it easier for the Citadel to pit them against the temple and have them undermine the Red Temple's influence in the future.

Many such thoughts sped through the Grandmaester's mind before he finally reached the doors to his chambers. Pulling the key from his robes, Pycelle opened the heavy wooden doors with surprising ease and entered with quick steps, before closing it behind him.

Locking the door once again, the aged Maester was just thinking about calling upon one of his servant girls to relax and pass the time until the fighting was all done when a flaming arm suddenly pierced through his chest from behind.

His lungs and part of his heart were incinerated near instantly as agonizing pain exploded in his chest, though he couldn't even scream without his lungs. Feeling his vitality draining from his body by the second, Pycelle could hardly muster enough strength to turn his head only to see a flaming figure standing behind him.

Fear and despair were the last things on his mind when blazing flames suddenly erupted from the fiery figure and consumed him whole, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ashes.

A moment later, the flaming figure vanished from the room in a shower of embers.

…

Seeing his army pour into the city akin to a raging stream after the floodgates had been opened, Renly, still a safe distance away from the city walls and the battle with his bride Margaery Tyrell by his side, couldn't help but turn towards the one who had finally made his conquest of the capital possible by delivering dozens of caches of wildfire to him.

Flowing blood-red robes, flaming hair, and fiery eyes, High Priestess Melisandre was a perfect picture of beauty and seduction, as she stood there with enchanting grace, looking at the destroyed gates of the city with nothing but calm.

"As promised, I will not forget the Red Temple's help today, High Priestess.", Renly addressed her with sincerity, "You can build your temples in the Stormlands and the Reach, and spread your faith there from today onwards."

The younger brother of the Usurper knew that this would cause some unrest amongst those two Kingdoms, especially the Reach as his new bride had already informed him of her disapproval of his decision, but Renly did not care.

What were two Kingdoms in comparison to seven after all?

Turning towards the young 'King', Melisandre couldn't help but sigh in pity, as the man truly was much more pleasant to converse with than his eldest brother had been when alive, in addition to being more reasonable in general, though she still preferred Stannis' quiet stoicism over Renly's princely charm.

Him being a rather pleasant conversationalist however, did not change what was about to happen, as she turned towards him fully and intoned with a calm voice: "Renly Baratheon, in the name of the Red Temple and as an envoy of the Red God, I, High Priestess Melisandre, hereby offer you the right to surrender now and withdraw your troops from the capital."

"Swear fealty to the Red Temple and you may go back to the Stormlands to rule as the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands under the temple's supervision. Refuse and I am afraid you will have forfeit any chance to retain your noble titles and wealth.", she ended with finality.

Shock and confusion in his eyes, the self-proclaimed King replied with a frown: "I am afraid I don't understand, Lady Melisandre. Is the Red Temple going back on its word?"

Hearing their King's words, the three members of his Rainbow Guard that were present along with a few dozen other guards, drew their weapons as they faced off against the Red Priestess, Brienne of Tarth, clad in blue-coloured armor, being one of them.

"We promised you help in taking the city, nothing more Lord Baratheon. And the city is now yours, which means that I have fulfilled my part of the deal already. The offer for your surrender is something entirely different.", Melisandre stated without any hint of nervousness, despite facing off against dozens of armed men on her own.

"I am the King in the South and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, which I have now also taken through right of conquest. This makes me the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men."

"I ask you to think things through before you make an enemy out of me, as I will not give up my crown just because you asked me to.", Renly announced with confidence, believing that the Red Temple would not dare to use force against him as that would automatically make it impossible for them to spread their influence in the Stormlands and the Reach.

The South may not stand united behind him, but it would never accept the temple if they killed 'their' King, this Renly knew very well.

"It seems you have all but forgotten about me, dear brother.", a voice sounded out from behind as the Lord Commander of the Red Temple's Naval Force appeared, by his side half-a-dozen men and women with feather-shaped marks on their cheeks that pulsed with light and power.

"S-Stannis?!", the self-proclaimed King called out in surprise, having not expected his brother to appear at this moment. A spike of fear ran down Renly's spine as he saw several Feathers appear along with his brother as he knew that his Rainbow Guard was not a match for any one of them, much less half a dozen.

A heavy frown on his somewhat pale face, the youngest of the Baratheon brothers voiced out in a dark tone: "Is this what you had planned all along? Using the Red Temple's power to take the Iron Throne for yourself? To have me bend the knee before you?"

"I should have known it. You have always been jealous and held a grudge against me since Robert gave me Storm's End.", the King in the South spat out, as he looked at his older brother with anger and hate.

Sighing quietly, the normally stoic Commander looked at his brother with pity and disappointment.

"You still don't understand, Renly. I am no King, and neither are you. The Red Temple only has one Absolute Ruler and 'he', does not make Kings or Queens.", Stannis proclaimed with finality as he pointed at the burning city before them, "The Red God vanquishes them."

Following his older brother's gesture with his eyes, the King in the South bore witness to something he would never forget for the rest of his life.

In the dark night sky above the city, a blazing bird appeared, its size simply immeasurable as its wings spanned over the whole city.

"CYA!!"

Its cry shook the sky and earth, as tremors ran through the land, the flaming being's divine aura tearing at the fabric of reality with every move it made.

Its long neck moving downwards, Renly Baratheon watched in absolute horror as the phoenix unleashed a torrent of fire from its flaming beak directly onto the city below.