Mormont's expression grew grave at Viserys's words, and his tone became somewhat more respectful. "Your Grace, do you have any evidence?"
"I have no physical evidence at present," Viserys said honestly. "But I have a Targaryen prophecy. My priest of the Red God has also seen visions in the flames: the Wall collapsing, the dead walking, the cold night swallowing everything. Haven't you noticed anything unusual lately?"
Benjen still sounded scornful. "Prophecies? Flames? That sounds like the tricks those followers of the Red God across the Narrow Sea use to lure in believers. You expect us to believe you on the strength of that nonsense?"
Viserys looked at Benjen. "Lord Stark, I understand that you hate me, but hatred should not cloud your judgment. Since you don't believe in prophecy, how about we let our swords speak? A trial by combat. We'll leave everything to the Seven."
In truth, Viserys had always found this method of judgment utterly absurd. It was pure nonsense, with no basis for deciding right or wrong. After all, a sufficiently powerful villain could disregard every law simply by demanding a trial by combat when brought to judgment. He might even kill his victim in the process and walk free, killing two birds with one stone.
It was entirely the fault of the Faith of the Seven's inaction.
But there was no helping it. In Westeros, this method worked better than almost anything else. Besides, it offered him nothing but advantages right now, so he could hardly complain. Once he reclaimed the Iron Throne, however, things would certainly have to change. By then, he would have no need for such methods himself, and he would certainly not give others the chance to use them to escape punishment for crimes they had truly committed.
"What?" Benjen asked,