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Barth's Whisper: HOTD SI Ch.14
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 18:51:20 +0000 UTCChapter 14
GALEN—The Healer
The Council Meeting was not so different than the last, and it was only the empty seat of the Hand of the King which had changed, for now Ser Ryam stood behind his King, as the seat of the Hand remained empty.
Everyone in the room knew that the King’s decision would soon be announced, and how such a decision could considerably shift the balance of power of the entire capital.
Finally, as discussions around all the mundane matters came to a close, the King finally pivoted towards the two decisions of great importance. All eyes in the room were trained on the King, who began sagely.
“As you all know, the Crown must appoint a new Hand, and so for the last few days I have given much thought to this matter and have reached a decision,” and with that, his eyes turned towards his own son, who sat beside him.
“Balon,” he announced, and there was but little surprise in the room at the King’s decision, as the heir to the Iron Throne stood up from his chair.
“You shall now serve as the Hand of the King,” and everyone in the room congratulated the Prince and praised the sagacity and wisdom of the decision, even if they were pained by it.
“I shall strive to serve the realm with all my heart,” the Prince vowed as he donned the pin and took his rightful place, and the king nodded.
“A sound decision, your grace. But this again leaves this council incomplete,” added Elysar the Grand Maester, and the King nodded.
“Yes, it does, and I shall need another week to rectify that, until then Balon shall see to the duties of both the Hand and the Maester of Laws,” and while being the Master of Laws was a far lesser prise than being Hand, still now all the lords and ladies at court would once again begin to politic, so that they may be chosen for this position.
And for good reason.
Being a counsellor to the King was a highly rewarding position, for it came with power and benefits that would make even a Lord salivate. The Gold and the power, it was simply too addictive, and Galen had been offered more gold by suspicious and conniving lords and ladies in the last week or so than he had ever held in his life until now.
And all for what—whispers of the Council, the truth of what had happened to the Princess, a good remark about their sagacity in front of their King, and even a few offers of marriage.
In the end, he ignored them as he continued to do his duties, as suddenly all eyes in the room turned towards him.
“Now, coming onto your proposal, Healer Galen?” the King began, his voice loud and clear, his eyes resolute as Galen waited for his words.
“I am afraid...,” and he saw Otto’s lips turn up slightly as his back straightened up, as the King continued.
“...as detailed, ambitious, and futuristic as your proposal was, I do not think it wise to pour so much gold into something so untested,” and he should have guessed as much. Still, a part of him had been surprised, for he had felt that his appointment to the Council was to counter the influence of the Citadel and the Hightowers.
Perhaps, he was wrong then.
“I disagree,” the Queen cut in, and the air in the room shifted, for it was rare for the Good Queen to go against her own lord and husband’s word.
But she had done it before, when the matter around the ‘Right of the First Night’ had come years ago. She had disagreed with the King, arguing vehemently against the abhorrent practice, and her efforts had resulted in the outlawing of the archaic tradition.
“As the rulers of these lands, it falls upon us to care for all people—lords, knights, masters, and commoners,” she whispered as his eyes narrowed.
“The lords have a master to care for them when they fall ill, and the Knights may be able to see one for themselves. But the commoners, they have no one to turn to when they turn ill, and as the Crown, it is our duty to see to their needs,” and it was Maester Elysar who spoke up.
“You are very kind, your grace, but there are healers and sage men in every village town who look after the ill there, and then there are the Septs as well,” and the Queen’s lips thinned as she shook her head.
“What healers?” she questioned.
“Quacks and thieves. I have flown across the realm and have heard a thousand tales about what kind of men these healers are,” but the point about the septs and the septas was sound, for it had been a septa who had saved his own life.
“And what of the Septs, your grace?” questioned Otto Hightower.
“The septons and septas there take vows to help the poor and needy,” and that was bold of him, to argue against the Queen.
“They do, and as pious and godly as these men and women are, they are not as well trained as a master or a proper healer,” she spoke softly, before she addressed all the Council, her words a soft whisper, yet they reached every corner of the room.
“We rule over an entire continent, and as the rulers of this land, it falls upon us to care for the weakest of our people,” and so she turned towards the King once more.
“So, I implore you to reconsider,” and he wondered how much of it was a scripted ploy, for he was sure that whatever decision was going to be made had already been decided, and that this whole thing was but a show for the lords here.
“I gave it much thought, but I cannot devote such a massive part of our coffers to an untested venture like this,” and the Queen’s lips thinned.
“Then you won’t have to,” and with that, the room shifted as the Queen turned towards him.
“Healer Galen,” and he rose from his seat at her command.
“Yes, your grace,” he offered, and the older woman began.
“Do you truly believe that this ‘Hospital’ of yours would help the old and the sick of the realm?” and he nodded with no doubt.
“Yes, it will,” and so after a second of silence.
“Then I offer you my support,” and the room drew silent at that.
“Mother...” “My Queen...”
The King and the Prince gasped, but the Good Queen Alysanne did not stop.
“The people all over the realm call me the Good Queen, and as Queen I must act as a mother to the realm, and though the Crown must restrain itself because of doubt and diffidence, someone must do something to alleviate the pain of the poor,” and so that was the ploy, for the Crown wanted to displace the Citadel yet supporting him openly, until he had gained accolades of his own was not wise and so they were using the Queen as a front for their ambition.
“Mother, this is not a small undertaking,” the Spring Prince spoke up in concern, and the older woman smiled.
“I know,” she whispered.
“But I have grown old and have no use for the fortune that rests in the coffers in my name. Gold and gifts that sit there and gather dust,” and a Queen’s holdings were separate from the King's.
“I would much rather see them utilised for the good of the realm,” and so her decision was made, and before he could bow and offer his thanks, it was the old Maester who spoke up.
“A very generous decision, your grace,” the old man began.
“But would it not be wise to offer this aid to the Sept or even the Citadel, for unlike this new proposal, both of these institutions have a long history of trying and helping the poor,” and she smiled.
“The Septs and the Citadel have stood for thousands of years and they will stand for a thousand more, I wish to leave behind another legacy one where the people of the realm do not have to fear sickness and death, where every town and village has a healer as well trained as the one who stands in front us right now,” and then her words grew to a whisper.
“A healer who is there to save a mother’s drowning daughter...”
0000
PRINCESS GAEL
Gael sat in her room, as she had for many years now, joined only by her mother. What few companions she had previously had were now all lost to her, as she grew tired of their constant banter and questions about what had truly transpired with her.
That did not really matter, though, for none of the ladies were truly her friends.
The truth was that she had never truly had friends or companions. Her mother had been her only constant companion, using her as a cushion for her pains and misgivings.
She was trying to change, that much was obvious.
But in the end, a part of her wondered if the change had come too late. Perhaps it was too late, and the damage might already be done.
“Gael. Gael!” and the words finally broke her out of the stupor, as she sat in the gardens, and a few weeks later, she felt much better as a whole. The cooks and the maids had been given strict instructions from their new ‘Healer’ about what she should eat and do, and so her maids had been helping her get back the steadiness of her step while the cooks of the Red Keep lavished her with multiple nutritious meals so that she might recover fully.
“Yes, mother,” she whispered as her mother looked her into the eyes.
“I believe that it is time that you get a few hobbies,” she added, as her face darkened as she looked away, face rife with guilt and pain.
“I know that I bear much blame for clipping your wings, but it is not yet too late,” she added as if a plea.
A part of her wanted to scream and rage at her, blame her for all the misfortune that had ruined her life. But Gael saw her old and thin frame, saw the years of duty and guilt, and stopped herself, for she bore as much blame as her mother in what had become of her.
“I have no interests,” and the Good Queen’s face darkened as she gazed at the garden around her and offered a suggestion.
“You could try gardening,” and Gael shook her head. She had little interest in flowers and plants beyond their beauty.
“Reading, Dancing, Singing,” the Good Queen continued, giving her suggestions, and she did not miss how all of them were her own hobbies. Despite her words, her mother still saw her as a reflection of herself.
But unlike before, there was little expectation in her voice. She was pleading with her, offering her a choice.
And she wondered when she had last had that choice.
“Anything,” she offered as Gael tried to think of one thing, and nothing came to mind, until one thing.
“That proposal,” she remembered, looking into her mother’s eyes.
“The one made by Galen,” and it was the talk of the castle about how a healer wanted to establish a place of learning and healing.
“Did father accept it?” Her mother shook her head, and she should have expected nothing less from him.
“No,” for all of King Jaeherys’s qualities, he was frugal with his praise and his coffers.
“But I did,” and that made her head snap towards her mother.
“The Crown could not be seen accepting such a proposal openly, so instead it will be supported by me, the Good Queen,” and Gael had never really had much interest in court and politics, so she did not understand why the Crown could not be seen supporting such a venture.
“Why couldn’t Father support it?” she questioned.
“You need not worry about that,” her mother’s old habit reared its head once more, but this time she realised her mistake a second later as she slowly added.
“Unless you are interested in politics and the court,” she offered cautiously, as Gael shook her head after a second thought.
“No, but I am interested in this ‘Hospital’,” she answered, for in some ways her own future depended upon this institution.
“I want to learn it,” she decided, and now that she was offered a choice, she would take it, as she decided on a hobby for herself.
“Healing...”
Comments
Radiant Tiefling
Thank you for the chapter.
FallenMetalGod
Thank you, and it seems like the King and Queen are playing quite the game against their Masters. However, I am interested in Gael picking up healing as a hobby. Great job as always, and I can't wait to see what happens next.
