Punch the Old Man First

In the camp beside the Goldroad, the golden lion banners of House Lannister snapped in the wind.

Tywin Lannister's tent was vast and luxurious. The charcoal in the brazier burned red-hot, making the interior feel as warm as spring.

Kevan Lannister held a cup of Arbor red, his cheeks slightly flushed from the wine and warmth.

"Jon Arryn's stupidity has shocked the Seven Kingdoms."

He spoke with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"He has driven the realm deep into debt, and now the Faith has launched a rebellion right under his nose."

"Robert Baratheon will soon discover that he needs a stronger hand to rule the realm for him."

Kevan Lannister turned his gaze toward his elder brother.

Tywin Lannister sat behind the table, an exquisite heraldic chessboard spread before him. With his long fingers, he was polishing a lion piece forged from pure gold.

He wore no armor, only a well-tailored crimson velvet coat, its golden buttons gleaming in the candlelight.

Tywin Lannister did not look up or make a sound, but Kevan Lannister knew his brother was listening.

Tyrion Lannister sat in the shadows of a corner, nearly forgotten.

He swung his short legs, while the wine cup in his other hand had long since been emptied.

"Father."

Tyrion Lannister's voice was quiet, yet it brought Kevan Lannister's account to a halt.

"Cersei and Joffrey are still in King's Landing. The longer this drags on, the greater the danger they're in. Why aren't you going to save them?"

The smile on Kevan Lannister's face faded slightly. He glanced at his brother and saw no reaction.

He cleared his throat and said in the tone of an elder instructing a junior, "Of course we will save them, Tyrion."

"Cersei and Joffrey in King's Landing will come to