Chapter 8.3- The Seadragon's Roar

“The realm is never at peace, young Lord.” When he spoke, his laughter died.. There something heavy, both behind his voice and his eyes.

“What do you mean? The realm has not known true war since Maegor slit his wrists against the blades of the iron throne. Th debacle with the Dornish shouldn’t count as you weren’t involved in that” I said, and it was true. This was the largest uninterrupted period of peace in Targaryen rule so far. They had brought peace, and thus prosperity to Westeros.

“And yet, nary a year ago, your Knight rode at the head of a column a hundred strong to put down bandits in the Eastern Stormlands. You think Cracklaw Point has any fewer? I assure you we have more. Why do you think your Lord Father patrols his island with such vigor and thoroughness. Not because he enjoys spending the gold on men at arms, but because there is no shortage of men willing to kill for their own aims. To kill for bread, or for meat, or for a groat. Is there peace where men and women get slaughtered in their homes by the dozens? Where merchants need pay for protection to ply the roads? No. There can never be peace in the realm. Just smaller wars. Wars between dozens of men and not thousands. That is the best we could hope for” He said, resolute. I looked at him again, and it was clear that he truly did believe what he was saying, and that made it all the more worrying.

“It’s not much of a society if you’ve got people falling into banditry out of desperation so often” His laughter this time was less harsh, more thoroughly amused.

“And what would you do? That is the nature of the small folk. Some of them will till the land for their daily bread, and some of them would kill another man to snatch his from his belly before his body cools. That is their nature, and it is why the Seven have given us, the nobility the right to rule over them. We are a higher breed of man who aspire to more than bread and war year after year. We rule them because left to their own devices, they would see themselves destroyed by their own nature.” He said. I gave him a doubtful look but did not say anything further.

This was neither the time nor the place to be expressing my disagreement with the prevalent theology. Especially since I was so little informed about the finer points on it. I attended the Sept as every good young Lord ought, and paid enough attention to my Septons to avoid being called out for it, but the truth was religion had just never interested me much. If there were gods, then they probably had better things to worry about than what we were doing down here. Besides, if any gods were real, it would probably be a set from my old life, and not the fictional creation of George Martin’s deviant mind.