The three red-cloaks dismounted and would have rushed at Kai if it weren’t for Jon Arryn stepping out of his palanquin.
"There is no need for it, your grace," the Hand said. "I assure you, the boy is no Targaryen. If you insist, I can bring you and him to your father, and decide it there and then."
A silence filled Kai’s immediate surroundings. The entire city came to life behind him, and the shouts of people washed over the silence like cold water.
"OK," the prince finally said, reluctantly. "Take away your Page, then. Dog! Keep an eye on him. Cut him down if he’s up to something funny."
"Gladly, your grace," Clegane said, a sharp laugh following his words.
The horses galloped away soon afterward, leaving behind a heavy frown on Jon Arryn’s freckled face. Kai stood up and turned around to see the prince’s entourage disappearing far into the serpentine streets when the old man put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don’t worry about Sandor Clegane," Jon Arryn said. "It’s the smaller, hidden ones I am worried about."
"Yes, my lord," Kai answered, mounting his horse again.
Jon Arryn went for his palanquin. But before vanishing into it, he gave Kai a deep look and sighed.
It was nighttime. Kai had been given the quarters bordering Jon Arryn’s bedroom. After a long, nice bath, he had his supper with a cup of sweet-sour red wine.
Later, Kai followed the guard to Jon Arryn’s bedroom.
The wall was lined with torches; the flames licking the stones, blackening them in shame. Two more guards were posted outside the Hand’s chambers.
He found Jon Arryn brooding over the heaviest, thickest book he had ever seen. The moment Kai stopped in front of the Hand’s little table, the old man shut the book with a thud.
"Be a good lad and pour some wine for me," Jon Arryn said, pointing at the jar of wine. "I have sent one more parchment to your room. It mentions your duties. You must know them, in case someone were to ask you."
Kai approached the wine. It smelled of spices, and there was a richness to it. Kai dipped a finger into the jar, shocking the living breath out of the old man. "What are you doing?" he shouted, but Kai had already put the finger in his mouth.
"I had told your guards too, my lord," Kai said, looking at the Hand’s wide eyes. "Let me taste everything before you eat or drink it. I have a high resistance to poisonous substances."
Just a touch of poison won’t kill him and he couldn’t afford the man dying on him by the lack of precautions.
"You think my food and wine are poisoned?" Jon Arryn asked, incredulously. "What nonsense?! The Maester would know of it soon enough then. No one can afford that kind of suspicion."
Here I thought the old man would have some sense to him, Kai thought, scowling inwardly. "There are poisons that are hard to detect, my lord," he said. "This Maester you speak of, how well can you trust him?"
"As well as I trust anyone," Jon Arryn answered, his brows furrowing, realizing Kai’s meaning. "You aren’t suggesting that it’s the Maester who wants me dead, are you? Haha! No, no. You don’t have to worry about him, either."
Kai looked at the Hand as if he was looking at a monkey. By now he knew what this Maester meant, and who he was. Maester Pycelle was like a royal physician, and Kai had put the old man at one of the top positions on his list...
The list of people who can kill Jon Arryn as easily as swatting a fly.
"There you are mistaken, my lord," Kai said. "I told you I will be blunt with you, at least regarding your safety. I have no reason to trust Maester, or just about anyone. I urge you again. Allow me to taste everything before it goes to your mouth."
Kai could see the Hand was annoyed at his suggestion. He let the old man mull over it for a few moments as he saw the title of the book.
The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms!
That’s a long title, Kai reflected.
"Alright!" Jon Arryn finally said, drinking a mouthful of wine. "Do as you please? Just beware of acting out of your place. Need I remind you not to even think of approaching the Prince and other royal members?"
"No, my lord," Kai answered, looking away from the book reluctantly. "I know my duty."
"Good then," the Hand said, standing up from his chair. "You are dismissed till the morrow."
Kai didn’t move, though. He looked around the room, noticing the windows and the sleeping city. "I think," he said, approaching one window, "I should sleep here with you, my lord."
"Huh?!" Jon Arryn’s mouth gaped at the notion. "No need for that. I am certain. There are guards outside whom I trust enough. And nobody can come through the window. We are too high for that."
Kai ignored the old fool and looked at the distant towers some hundred meters away. Then his gaze moved down and went to the sewer opening just by the Hand’s Tower.
"As you wish," Kai said, a creepy, evil smile surfacing on his face, "My Lord."
It was a moonless night. The air was silent near the ground, but upon the hill, it hummed lightly, passing through the ventilated halls and corridors of Red Keep.
The door made the lightest creak as it opened, and a guard walked out. Jon Arryn’s blurry shadow could be seen behind him, rippling against the candle’s flame.
The guard resumed his post as the door guardsmen along with the already present one.
"What was that?" one guard said.
"It came from the other end of the corridor," the other replied.
"Must be," the guard answered with uncertainty. "I am going to check it out."
The wind howled as the lone guard stood at the door, waiting for his companion to come back.
The guard snapped his neck, flinching at the sound. This was no rat, he thought. It came from a man.
The guard looked around but found no source. Suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed a redness.
A stream of red liquid!
"Blood!" the guard let out a shocked whimper. A runny, long trail of blood was streaming out of the gap between the wooden door and the floor. "Isn’t that the room of that Bastard?" the guard muttered, already approaching, unsheathing his sword. "Arlen, was it?"
The guard warily knocked at the door, but it opened at the lightest touch. The heavy oak doors parted, letting the guard peek into the room.
It was too dark for naked eyes. "Oi!" the guard called out. "Arlen, are you there?" The guard looked down and found the trail of blood coming from deep within the room. He twisted his neck to see the other guard, but he was nowhere to see.
"The fool should have returned from the corridor’s end," he muttered. "Damn it!"
The guard steeled his resolve, finding no other choice. His grip on the longsword tightened, and he entered the dark room, pointing the sword at an arm’s length.
The darkness receded as he kept going in. When he reached the middle of the room, he finally saw it.
A cup filled with blood was tilted on the floor. Blood was dripping out of it, painting the floor in a steady stream like a single red stroke of the brush.
"Where is he?" the guard mumbled. "Where’s the boy?"
A hiss answered him. Goosebumps covered the guard’s arms, then. He felt a sharp heat on his neck as if someone had lit a match on it. This heat had a bite to it, a raging sensation mixed with silent pleasure.
The thought of slashing behind him had just crossed his mind when a sudden pinch on his neck followed the heat.
The pain couldn’t have been more than a needle piercing the skin.
The guard felt something moist entering him. It was the last sane feeling he had.
Death had never claimed someone so quietly before.
Kai’s slitted eyes became round again, the long nail of his middle finger returning to its actual shape.
He stomped, smashing the bloody cup to smithereens. Kai then used the guard’s sword to slash his throat open. When he walked out, none could even tell that the blood coming out of the room wasn’t from one person.
There was no sound to Kai’s steps. He might as well have been a cat for the ears of any listener.
Kai silently killed the torches, darkening the corridor outside the Hand’s chamber. When he opened the doors, they didn’t give out the slightest creak.
Kai found the Hand still awake, sitting on the chair, his head looming down over the same book on the table.
Jon Arryn spied Kai’s shadow from the corners of his eyes and he looked up. "Arlen!" he sounded surprised. "Why are you here? At this hour..."
Kai cut him off, though. "Tell me, what is the first requirement for a successful assassination?"
"What’s the meaning of this?!" the Hand almost thundered, his voice feeble. "Guards!"
"Humor me, my lord," Kai said, chuckling. "You know I mean you no harm..."
Jon Arryn’s eyes blazed. "Skill, stealth, and experience, of course," he said, after a moment of pause.
"Haha!" Kai laughed, his voice booming off the thick walls. "That is true, but not entirely correct."
Jon Arryn opened his mouth to shout at the top of his lungs.
"For a flawless assassination," Kai continued, slithering, "an assassin must know the location of the target first."
How would they assassinate Jon Arryn, if they wouldn’t even know where he is?