Rivers of Blood
“You have always been a disappointment to me, Willam. I wish I’d had the good fortune to have had a daughter, instead of the son which murdered the only person I have ever loved.”
Willam’s unease did not abate, despite the regularity of his father’s admonishments.
“How can I be proud of such a cur? Your only achievement is to have had relations with as many women as you saw fit. I have spent my years advising our lord, hiding the secrets of our family. I know your charms may work on the feeble-minded, but I continue to remain immune.”
Willam held up his hand in defence, “But father –“
“Do not waste your time, boy; I already know the attacks you seek to unleash on me. In council, I advised our lord to side with the Targaryens, I continue to despise you for the death of your mother during your birth, and I provided you with the knowledge of how to destroy the seeds that you implanted into the bellies of the numerous, wretched whores. For these things, and so much more, I realise that I can, no longer, remain in my position.”
Willam knew that interrupting his father would have been of no use.
“Now the House has stabilised after the war, the war you so cowardly avoided, I demand that you find what limited intelligence you have, so that you may offer some guidance to the lord. He needs useful men and I do not deny that you have some skill in getting the weak-willed to do as you wish. Whether you prove to be useful, I have serious concerns, but there are few others to look to in these times”. Willam’s father paused, “Have you anything to say?”
Willam repeated his most familiar phrase when dealing with his father, “I am sorry that I have been such a poor son to you.”
Willam’s father shrugged with indifference, mounted his horse, and looked down at his son, “You cannot disappoint me any more, Willam. I go to take the Black, and I leave you with one piece of advice – die with honour at your own hand, before you die with dishonour at the hand of a cuckolded husband.”
William watched his father ride off to the north, and began to smile, “Silly old bastard. When you’re shivering on that pointless relic of a wall, I will be licking the finest wines from the breasts of the most exquisite women.”
He tossed into the air a small vial, and chuckled at the suffering his father would endure, before he found the antidote that he undoubtedly would have in his possession.
Unfortunately, for his father, there wouldn’t be enough to share with his horse, and it was a long way to the Wall.