Grand Maester Pycelle had served as the Grand Maester of the Seven Kingdoms for nearly forty years. He had seen the reigns of kings including the "Mad King" Aerys Targaryen, Aerys's father Jaehaerys II, and had even served Jaehaerys's father, Aegon V, the "King Who Should Not Have Been King."
Pycelle sat down tremulously and had an attendant bring him a cup of milk tea, politely thanking the servant in return.
"Hand of the King, you really should enjoy life in King's Landing. The South is always a bit more comfortable than the North. I still remember when I served under Aegon V, his brother Aemon Targaryen went to the North. It was truly unbelievable..."
Eddard Stark felt a slight headache coming on. In his eyes, Grand Maester Pycelle was knowledgeable and amiable, but in his old age, he simply talked too much.
"Grand Maester, I wish to know the specific circumstances before Old Jon's death. Is it possible... I mean, is it possible he didn't die of illness?"
"Lord Stark, you might as well speak plainly."
"Is it possible it was poison?"
Upon hearing this, Grand Maester Pycelle suddenly opened his half-squinted eyes to look at Eddard Stark, his face showing shock, followed by a long silence.
"Lord Stark, that is quite the conspiracy theory," Pycelle continued. "I have been the Grand Maester of the Seven Kingdoms for nearly forty years, my Lord Hand. Forgive my bluntness: symptoms like those of the old Hand Jon Arryn are not rare. To my knowledge, during the reign of Jaehaerys II, there was an attendant whose symptoms were similar to Old Jon's."
Eddard Stark listened patiently to Grand Maester Pycelle's explanation. To be honest, he even felt that what the other man said made quite a bit of sense.
But he always felt that the letter Lysa Tully wrote wasn't based on nothing; there must be something he hadn't noticed yet.
"Then may I ask, Grand Maester, was there anything unusual about Old Jon before he died?" Eddard remained persistent.
Pycelle took a sip of milk tea and closed his eyes to think for a moment.
"I still remember when the old Lord Hand was here, he often came to me to discuss the marriage alliances between House Baratheon and various other houses, as well as the appearances of the children born. He was also constantly leafing through a certain book."
Pycelle stood up and walked to the right wall covered in densely packed books, pressing his face close to the shelves to search carefully.
"This is the one." After searching for a long while, Pycelle finally placed a heavy book in front of Eddard Stark. Eddard looked at it and saw the title written on the cover—
"The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms (With descriptions of many high lords and ladies and their children)," written by Grand Maester Malleon.
Eddard Stark frowned deeply; he seemed to find it difficult to link this book to Old Jon's death.
"This is a massive tome written by Grand Maester Malleon, entirely about the lineages of the great houses. After the old Lord Hand died, I also leafed through this book many times, but other than making me more bored, I gained nothing. To be honest, it's the first time I've seen such a sleep-inducing book; I even suspect the author was a sorcerer from across the Narrow Sea who excelled in illusions."
Pycelle sat back down and began talking to Eddard about the past again.
"Lord Stark, since you have come specifically to find me today, I will tell you everything I know."
Pycelle began to reminisce—
"The Lord Hand's illness was very sudden; in no time at all, he could no longer move. When someone called me over to treat him, he was already failing. I still remember him repeatedly shouting the name 'Robert.' I am not sure if he was calling for his son or His Majesty the King. As you know, his son's name was taken from His Majesty's."
"Truly a poor child, losing his father at such a young age..."
"Grand Maester..." Eddard looked at Pycelle's tearful appearance, feeling a bit of pity.
"Forgive me, Lord Stark. An old man has experienced too many tragedies; once a new tragedy appears before his eyes, he always thinks of the past."
"Let us continue. I remember the last clear words the old Lord Hand spoke were: 'The seed is strong.'"
"The seed is strong..."
Eddard Stark repeated the phrase. He had a special premonition that these words would be the key to solving the puzzle.
"Please forgive this white-haired old man; as you know, old people always need long periods of sleep. Time flies for me; every day that passes is one less I have."
"Grand Maester, thank you for your help." After Eddard Stark expressed his gratitude, he realized Pycelle had already fallen asleep. He shook his head and slowly walked out.
Just as Eddard Stark finished saying his farewells and turned to leave, Pycelle suddenly opened his eyes and said one more thing to him:
"Lord Stark, you may not know: His Majesty's Master of Whispers, Varys, was once a slave in Lys? My Lord, slaves always love to use flowery words to deceive people's hearts. You must never trust this spider."
...
Having bid farewell to the white-haired, drowsy Grand Maester Pycelle, Eddard Stark prepared to go back and look at the book Pycelle mentioned that Old Jon Arryn frequently leafed through.
He also had to ask Jory how the investigation he had assigned him was going.
While passing a small plaza in The Red Keep, Eddard Stark saw Crown Prince Joffrey and The Red Keep's instructor sitting opposite each other not far away. Their brows were furrowed as if they were playing chess.
Eddard grew interested and walked over.
"Lord Stark, it's been a long time."
Borin Storm was the first to see Eddard Stark and hurriedly stood up to greet him.
"It has been a long time, Borin. It must have been nearly ten years since we last met. I still remember when your brother Robert rebelled, you were always by his side with a sword, warding off many opponents for him."
Eddard Stark happily gave Borin Storm a bear hug; it was clear the two had a good relationship.
"Back then I relied on being young and strong. If you asked me to fight that hard now, I really couldn't handle it."
Borin Storm spoke very honestly, always saying what was on his mind.
Eddard Stark liked Borin Storm very much; their personalities were similar, and they both spoke directly without many twists and turns. When they raised their banners years ago, the two had even shared a tent.
"Uncle, come play a game of chess with me."
"This is..."
Eddard curiously looked at this novel contraption. On a square-gridded board were thirty-two circular pieces—sixteen red and sixteen black—each placed on the intersections.
In the middle of the board was a gap acting as a divide, with several strange characters written on it. It looked very much like the script of "Yi Ti" located in the east of Essos.
(The original novel setting calls it "Yi Ti." I feel the Chinese translation 'Yidi' isn't quite accurate or pleasant-sounding, so this text uses 'Yi Ti' to represent it.)
"Lord Stark, this is a new type of chess developed by His Highness. The rules are also very simple..."
Eddard Stark only had to listen to the rules for a short while before he could hold his own against Joffrey. By the third game, Eddard Stark had completely taken the upper hand and rarely lost.
Managing a chess game is like managing court affairs; it requires a clear mind and precise calculation. Eddard Stark could be said to fully possess both. With the first step, he could think of the third, fourth, or even fifth step. It could be said he was a top-tier Great Lord with competent political ability.
Joffrey truly couldn't understand how someone with such high political sensitivity could have lost.
Eddard Stark seemed to really like this novel thing called Chess, and he didn't leave until Jory Cassel came looking for him.
Upon entering the Hand's chambers, Eddard Stark set down the heavy book. He then sat in a chair with Jory Cassel and asked, "Jory, how is the matter I asked you to investigate?"
"My Lord, I've looked into everything. Not all of the old Hand's people followed Lady Arryn back to The Eyrie; a few did indeed stay behind. Among them are a kitchen girl whose belly was knocked up, a stableboy who joined the City Watch, a runner boy, and a former squire of Lord Arryn named Hugh."
"According to that stableboy, the old Lord Hand particularly liked to spend time with Stannis before he died. They even frequently rode out together to... to visit brothels." Jory Cassel was also a bit confused.
"Go where? Brothels?"
Eddard Stark was stunned after hearing this, feeling as though he were listening to a joke. Neither of those two seemed like the type of person to visit a brothel.
Stannis had a stern personality. As his younger brother Renly said: his second brother Stannis would have a solemn expression even in bed, as if he were performing a duty. Moreover, Stannis once intended to shut down all the brothels in the world.
Jon Arryn went without saying; given his physical condition, he likely couldn't have done much of anything.
And a key issue was that Stannis had fled back to Dragonstone after Old Jon's death. What kind of role did he play in this entire affair?
It seems I must go take a look...
...
In the afternoon, Joffrey first spent some affectionate time with his Sansa, then prepared to go to the training grounds to practice his swordsmanship.
When he arrived at the training grounds, he found someone was already there. He saw a thin man teaching a small girl how to practice swordsmanship.
However, unlike the traditional Westerosi two-handed broadsword, the two of them held narrow swords that were rarely used, and the swordsmanship movements were very strange.
As he drew closer, Joffrey recognized him.
Syrio Forel. He was a Braavosi, definitely a master-level swordsman, and he was also the former First Sword of Braavos.
Joffrey became interested in this man. In the original story, one could only see that his swordsmanship was superb, but his past was never mentioned.
"Prince Joffrey," Syrio bowed elegantly, whereas Arya just called out "Joff."
"No need for such formality. What is this sword style called?" Joffrey was quite interested in this novel swordsmanship; he always felt it wasn't as simple as it appeared on the surface.
"To answer Your Highness, this sword style is called: Water Dancing."
"Water Dancing? A good name. Can you teach me? I am very interested."
"It would be my honor."
Syrio did not refuse the Prince's request and very decisively tossed a wooden sword from Arya's hand to him, causing Arya to pout in dissatisfaction. Syrio could only smile and comfort her.
Although Water Dancing was a secret tradition of the Braavosi Water Dancers, Syrio felt the Prince might not necessarily be able to learn it.
The two took their stances and began to spar. Joffrey's gaze was like a torch, constantly observing Syrio's moves. Perhaps due to the fusion of two souls, Joffrey's mental strength was exceptionally powerful. He could now easily keep track of everything happening around him.
As Joffrey watched Syrio sparring with him, his body unconsciously began to synchronize with his opponent.
Gradually, his movements and his way of applying force slowly became exactly the same as Syrio's.
At that moment, Syrio's eyes suddenly narrowed. He targeted the weak points of the wooden swords in their hands and exerted a sudden burst of force. With a crisp snapping sound, both of their wooden swords broke.
"Your Highness, my swordsmanship may not be suitable for you."
Joffrey smiled and didn't mind, bidding them farewell before leaving. His strength was immense, and he mainly followed the path of using overwhelming force to overcome skill. If he gave up his advantage in strength to practice this lightweight swordsmanship, it would be a case of putting the cart before the horse.
"Master, is Joffrey not as good as me? That's why you won't teach him, only me."
Watching Arya Stark grinning and skipping about.
Syrio uncharacteristically withdrew his smile. He watched Joffrey's receding figure and said to Arya:
"No. This Prince's talent is something I have only seen once in my life. He can learn another's moves within a very short time of clashing and master them, turning them back upon his opponent."
"Then what you did just now?" Arya tilted her head in confusion; she could never understand these people who spoke in riddles.
"Practicing the sword is like practicing the man; a person's sword style and moves reveal much about their character. The Water Dancing we practice was realized by Braavosi swordsmen from water itself, emphasizing the unity of offense and defense. To attack is to raise a terrifying wave with the weight of a thousand tons. To defend is like water, soft and yielding, using a small force to deflect a great one. The two are yin and yang, complementing each other."
Syrio explained to Arya Stark with a serious expression.
"But the Prince's swordsmanship has only offense and no defense. Yin and yang are out of balance; extreme yang must decline. I sensed from his swordsmanship that in his heart there is a mass of darkness that no one can touch."
"Such people are very rare, but every one of them is a peerless talent of this world. The last time I saw such a person was ten years ago when I left Braavos to travel the world. When I arrived in Qarth, I met him. He wanted to recruit me to board his ship, but I refused."
Syrio fell silent for a moment, as if reminiscing about that person.
"My impression of him is very deep: his skin was pale, and he was very handsome. He was tall and extremely well-built. He had black hair that reached his shoulders and a black beard. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye, his right eye's pupil was as bright blue as a gemstone, and his lips were the same color as his right eye."
"Whenever he began to fight, he would fall into a frenzied and bloodthirsty state. His mouth would constantly shout: 'What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!'—that phrase the followers of the drowned god often say."
"Who was that person?"
Arya Stark was different from her sister Sansa Stark; her body contained the wild wolf blood, and she was always very interested in words like rangers and heroes.
"His name was Euron Greyjoy..."
When Syrio mentioned the name, his gaze drifted and he bit his lip, his words somewhat vague.
It seemed the relationship between him and Euron Greyjoy was likely not as simple as he claimed.