As the lists of casualties on both sides increased, Cersei Lannister had to admit to herself the failure of her plan. Crushing Septa Unella’s head in front of the capital frightened the heretics enough to stop wearing grey garbs in public and carrying out sermons on the ashes of Baelor, but they were now striking from the shadows, recruiting armies and attacking gold cloaks when they least expected it. Pulling out the reeds was not working. Ser Gregor was a frightful man, but evidently not as frightful as dragons.
“This mummer’s farce needs to end,” Cersei told Qyburn as the Iron Throne finished holding court for another day. “I have had hundreds in patched motley slayed, yet they continue to breed like flies. Where is Bronn?”
“Presumably in the streets, slaying the flies,” said Qyburn, “but I’m afraid he will not succeed. Your Grace, I fear the situation is a bit more nuanced.”
Cersei was dismissive. “We must find the snake’s head and cut it off.”
“I must differ,” said Qyburn. “I do not believe the Righteous Saviors of the Seven are a group among the people; indeed, they are the people. With respect, Your Grace, consider the minds of the populace when they learn someone destroyed their place of worship and killed their beloved Queen Margaery, before ascending to the throne themselves. Since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, every monarch of the Seven Kingdoms has been anointed with the blessings of the High Septon. Any ruler who is not is, in the eyes of the people, not fit to carry out the will of the gods.”
The will of the gods. Cersei could not resist herself a chuckle. “I had forgotten how foolish the smallfolk are.”
“Foolish they may be,” Qyburn replied with a sympathetic smile, “but such is the predicament we find ourselves in. King’s Landing is beginning to lose its faith in the royal blood. My spies tell me stories of desperate people who believe in the myth of Azor Ahai. In Flea Bottom, old men claim an army of dead men march on the Wall as punishment for the queen’s crimes. Others believe the dragons of Daenerys Targaryen are real gods, and drink secret toasts to their health.”
Cersei’s initial inclination was to let Qyburn know what she thought of his opinions on her reign, but she saw the sense in his argument. I must learn from what happened with the Faith Militant. The costs of war meant relative lowborns like Harys Swyft and Gilbert Farring were castellans of historic seats in Casterly Rock and Storm’s End, people unlikely to inspire loyalty. The lack of royalty at the Red Keep, apart from disillusioning the people with the monarchy, also made it more difficult to govern kingdoms she yet controlled.
Fleetingly, Cersei wondered why she sent away Jaime Lannister at such delicate times. No, a stronger voice in her said. No one humiliates Lord Tywin’s daughter with impunity.
*
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