Sunday, May 03, 2015

The Westeros Cup: The Protest

Varys missed Tyrion's wit. Meetings were not just boring without his quips but lacking in ideas and vision. In particular, Pycelle was a moron!

"Let's get this over with" said Varys. "Remind me exactly why we are holding the race protest hearing in Lord Baelish's.... establishment? Err.... hello... Pycelle, concentrate."

Pycelle turned back from exchanging smiles with one of the young ladies and would have blushed if his pulse or conscience had been strong enough.

"Well, it was thought he'd be here and not... where ever he is. And also on the committee there is Tyrion, it was considered it would be convenient for him but he is .... somewhere else. Finally we expected the crews to be here."

"So where are they?"

"Well the Black Watch have returned to their Wall and the Wildlings were either killed in the incident or captured."

"Well, I suppose we better hear from some of the captured Wildlings."

"There would be a problem there: it appears they all fell on a sword and died except one who dunked his head in a cauldron of molten lead."

"Oh."

"Well, who was going to pay for their food?"

"I see your point."

"But there are these reports."

Varys looked at the scrolls, picking up one with a sneer. "As if they matter. The key question is who we want to win."

"On the one hand the Black Watch serve the King while Stannis Baratheon is a rebel."

"That is true."

"But if we disallow the Black Watch's win then there's no chance of them defeating Stannis in their semi."

"Tricky. Are there are any mitigating circumstances?"

"The bribes are equally impressive."

"Even more tricky."

Varys wondered what Tyrion would have done, then it came to him.

"I say we accept both bribes and decide the result is there must be a re-race and if there isn't a winner then the previous result stands."

"But neither crew are available."

"Exactly: win - win"

"Very good" said Pycelle. He picked up the bribe purse.

"If you'll just excuse me" he said, totting out in the direction the young lady had left.

Moron, thought Varys.

Where was Tyrion?




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