Chapter 5

The battle was a true clusterfuck from the outset, as the desperately outnumbered Sparrows with their cudgels tried to fend off my urban, if not motley rabble with plenty of weapons between them. The Faith Militant was more than a little outclassed, yet they fought quite bravely, I would give them that much. The streets of King’s Landing already began to flow with blood, the gutters rather red with them in fact, as my makeshift army of angry townsfolk butchered many Sparrows in front of them with no hint of mercy whatsoever.

The Sparrows began running for a while, but we chased them, cutting them down as they fled. I was determined not to spare them. My blood was up and I was out for more, seeking the complete slaughter of their kind. I cut them down, mostly using my shotgun at this point, knowing that the sound terrified my friends and foes alike. The more buckshot I fired into the foe, the more that he lost his cohesion, discipline, and morale, for at least long enough to be forced to withdraw back to safer quarters.

We had already cleared a number of streets, but the Sparrows now chose to try to ambush me, namely hiding in side streets and alleys as we passed. They were clearly horrified by the way that I continued to steadily expel them from much of the capital, quite literally at gunpoint. The more that they attacked my flanks, though, the more ruthless and implacable I became with each skirmish. I wanted all of the Sparrows dead and gone, every last motherfucking bastard of them. I was eager to annihilate them and cut them out like a cancer from the body politic.

The Sparrows began screaming in anger at me as I slew more of them, their zeal still keeping them resolved to oppose me, even as I neither gave nor asked for quarter. They were clearly frustrated that I had them at a disadvantage, forcing their retreat through much of the city. To my relief, the Gold Cloaks of the City Watch observed, but did absolutely nothing for the present as I butchered so many Sparrows in cold blood on the cobblestone streets of the capital. I continue to sweep through King’s Landing like a broom, fighting very hard in the streets and alleys of the city to exterminate them.

The piles of bodies began to creep upwards, carcasses of slain Sparrows that stunk to whatever heaven one believed in, of course. The smell got worse with the number of them who shat and pissed themselves as they died, in vain seeking martyrdom and the keys to all Seven Heavens. No doubt, the biggest shock was not meeting the Stranger or the Father or Mother or any of the Seven as they died. They were in for a real surprise, no question of that, as they continued dropping like flies. Despite their discipline, they were no match for a heavily armed rabble rouser determined to kill them all.

“These Sparrows have tried to surrender, sir. Should we spare them?” Justen informed me of the capture of four Sparrows, all of them justifiably terrified.

“Castrate them and then crucify them. I have no mercy left to spare any Sparrows. It clearly takes a hard man to take this city and rule it, and if needs must, I will be that hard man. Use nails, too. I want to hear their screams reverberate as they are nailed to their crosses. Let the High Sparrow learn of this and know that his own fate will be every bit as gruesome and grim. Perhaps he’ll flee the city to safety. That would save us a lot of trouble, wouldn’t it?” I chuckled as Bancey and Claere started to geld their victims to shrieks of agony from the condemned.

“Well, I think that will definitely get the High Sparrow’s attention!” Justen belly laughed as he began swinging the hammer to nail one of the captives to some wooden beams.

The Sparrow, already bleeding from the stump where his private parts used to be, screamed his loudest as he felt the horrific pain of the sharp spikes going into the palms of his hands. Crucifixion was clearly not the most common penalty in Westeros, but it was not unheard of, especially after reports of Daenerys Targaryen taking Meereen and crucifying the Wise Masters. It certainly showed the enemy my mettle, my utter ruthlessness on par with the Dragon Queen, Stannis Baratheon, and Lord Tywin Lannister, among others. Sparrows for miles away, along with other townsfolk, could definitely hear those wailing men as they wore out their dwindling lung capacity with wasteful screams.

Meanwhile, my host kept growing, even as we cleared another street of King’s Landing of the Sparrow scum. Their corpses lay there as plain proof that Roger Waters showed no mercy to the Faith Militant whatsoever. The shrinking number of Sparrows were forced to pull back toward the Red Keep, the Sept of Baelor, and other key buildings of state, as my following grew and my ladies walked alongside me. They were rather impressed by now with the extent of my forcefulness and aggression, as I kept shooting the Sparrows without any attempt to offer them a chance at surrender.

Once I found a horse to mount, I could fire more effectively into the enemy throng, and I targeted higher placed Sparrows, much to their horror. That was when the tide really turned, as many Gold Cloaks began wading into the Faith Militant’s ranks and slaughtering them brutally. They had clearly chosen a side: mine. The Sparrows fought back viciously, but it was hopeless, as the Gold Cloaks took up my war cry, “Down Sparrows, Up Waters, Down Sparrows, Up Waters!”

Coming up closer to several ranking Sparrows, and not wishing to risk shooting Gold Cloaks who were now in my camp, I now shouldered my shotgun and rode down Sparrows with my spear and my horse. I thrust through several dozen while my comrades ferociously cut through their ranks as well. My horse, a gelding who I named Varys, of all things, trampled more than a Sparrows as well under his hooves, to painful cries and wails from the crushed and broken foes beneath him.

As the Gold Cloaks linked up more and more with my own troops, we began to really make mincemeat of the Sparrows. We also spared nobody among them, even bursting into septs to drag them out for wholesale slaughter. They were hacked to pieces with axes in front of septs, septas, and septons alike. No effort was even made to save their lives whatsoever. They were vermin and I was eager to cut them out, as Arya Stark once put it, root and stem. It was a messy, grisly, horrible slaughter, sheer, bloody mayhem, and I encouraged their most bloodthirsty demons to come and play among my warriors.

“No quarter! No quarter! Slay them all!” I shouted boldly to my armed followers, wanting this to turn into an absolute bloodbath.

The Gold Cloaks, now defectors to my cause, carried out my orders as ruthlessly as the rest of my troops. They slashed their way through the ranks of the Faith Militant to wreak havoc among them, executing them to a man. The Sparrows were barely holding their own at all against me and my rabble. Against the Gold Cloaks, they were fucked and they knew it. Desperately, even many of the zealots ignored my demand for their blood and put up their hands in surrender.

One of the Gold Cloaks, along with Justen, looked at me expectantly, and I shook my head.

“No quarter means no quarter. Kill them all. Spare not a single Sparrow to ever trouble this city again. I want all of King’s Landing and Westeros to know what Roger Waters thinks of religious zealots who try to shove their ways down our throats. I want to make an example of these Sparrows. Crucify them all. Every last Sparrow, down to the lowest of them. I want the High Sparrow to know what’s coming for him. Besides, I’ve rallied men and women with this war cry and I meant every word of it,” I told the Gold Cloak in question.

The Gold Cloak and Justen both grinned widely at this news, as did Emely, Bancey, Lara, Claere, and many other women as well as men. It seemed that I wasn’t the only man out for Sparrow blood and vengeance on their leaders. The crowd swarmed as many more Sparrows were dragged out of houses, inns, apartments, and septs. They were lowered to a wooden beam each and their hands were nailed to crosses in full view of the populace and clergy alike.

Now marching toward the Great Sept of Baelor, having fought throughout the day, I surrounded the holiest shrine in Westeros with my vast army of Gold Cloaks and Flea Bottom malcontents, torches in hand to give light as evening approached. The few Sparrows still guarding the Great Sept looked at us with horror, knowing what this meant for them and their fate. In vain, they raised their cudgels, as I drew my shotgun and began firing into them at last. Most of them fell dead down the steps as I marched up the stairs to the doors and kicked them open.

The High Sparrow, several septons and septas, and a small bodyguard of loyal Sparrows awaited us as I put back my shotgun and aimed my spear toward the head man himself. The High Sparrow’s wrinkled, clean-shaven face was very grim as he saw that he faced a real threat to his safety and that of his men. Even so, he managed to force out a smile as he approached me, his hands stretched out as if in a gesture of peace. He was unarmed, after all, relying on others to do his dirty work for him.

“Your Holiness, in the name of King Tommen, I hereby place you under arrest,” I announced to the shock and chagrin of every last one of the septons and septas.

“My authority comes from the Faith of the Seven, as well as the Seven themselves, and the most devout. By what right do you place me under arrest and under whose authority?” the High Sparrow insisted.

“By the power vested in him as the new Lord Commander of the City Watch. You have the honor of addressing Roger Waters, the new Lord Commander, who has taken command of this city for the good of the realm. We seek to uphold the rule of law against the tyranny of the Faith and its present High Septon, namely Your Holiness. What shall we do with this other Sparrows, m’lord?” the same Gold Cloak from earlier announced my new command.

“What’s your name, soldier?” I asked the Gold Cloak.

“Jeffary, m’lord,” he answered.

“Jeffary, take the last Sparrows out of here and cast them down the front steps. Let any who survive the fall be crucified,” I ordered the man, only to see the Sparrows try to rush my guards in vain.

They were cut to pieces, between my rabble ruffians and my Gold Cloaks, not getting hardly any blows in before they were struck dead. Their leader, who I now recognized as Lancel Lannister, I seized at spear point and kept apart from the rest. I intended to deal with him separately, as one of the few exceptions to my generally bloodthirsty approach to this destructive cult. My hand on the man was a signal to the Gold Cloaks and the Flea Bottomites alike that he was an exception, something that Jenny and Carrie both noticed with surprise.

“You’re sparing his life, but not theirs,” Jenny coughed now.

“He’s a Lannister. Lancel Lannister. His life might still give me some leverage for now. They’re the most powerful family or house in all Seven Kingdoms, which you’d know if you had watched the series. Now, of course, you must rely entirely on me to how you survive this damn place,” I warned the two girls from my own universe.

“Look, I get that you’re still mad at us or at least annoyed with us, but you’ve been silent toward us most of the time while brutally and callously slaughtering all of these monks without any mercy whatsoever. Perhaps if you had less rage, you’d kill fewer folks? Do you really have to wipe all of these monks out?” Carrie complained now, irritating me further.

“Did you miss the part where they were armed to the teeth and trying to kill me? No, this is a war to the knife and I mean to end it with the blood of the last of these, Lancel here, provided that he is foolish enough not to provide me with reasons to spare his life. This religion, it’s dominated by officious, sanctimonious twits, which means that you’d probably like it,” I dismissed both girls’ gripes for now as I smiled at the pathetic cries for mercy from the last few Sparrows led away to their deaths.

I then turned to the High Sparrow and his unarmed, regular clerics, the septons, septas, etc. and told them, “Sit down, fools! I am in command now and I will ask all the questions that I have. To begin with, where are Queen Margaery and Ser Loras Tyrell?”

“You came for the Queen, did you? So be it. Septa Unella, bring the Queen to me, so that the new Lord Commander of the City Watch can speak to her and see that she is unharmed,” the High Sparrow ordered one of the septas, clearly still deluded that he had any power here.

“Not by herself, she doesn’t. Justen, accompany the septa, collect whatever keys are necessary, and if she tries anything clever, kill her. Septa Unella, you’re to release both the Queen and Ser Loras into my custody, is that understood?” I pointed my spear at the septa, whose face went very pale when she heard my words.

“Why have you profaned the sept with bloodshed, especially the blood of the Faith Militant? Was it not enough to shed the blood of Ned Stark at this sept when he was put to death? What do you hope to gain by this? Passage to the lowest of the Seven Hells is well within your grasp, I assure you, but even now, the Mother’s Mercy is... , “ the High Sparrow preached at me before I cut him off.

“Fuck the Faith! Fuck your Sparrows. Fuck your Most Devout, your septons, your septas, your septs, fuck all of that! Listen to me now, bitch. Right now, I’m the closest thing to a god of any kind that you’ll ever meet in your life, as I am the only one who can end it. My name is Roger Waters, I’m a maester’s bastard, so I know the lie behind clever words uttered in pretty vows. I am the new Lord Commander of the City Watch, too. I do not believe in your precious Seven, not even slightly. That’s right, I’m an infidel and I now have the power of life or death, godlike power, over each of you remaining here. Now, how much longer before the Queen is produced and Ser Loras with her?” I demanded.

“Not much longer, I assure you. You know, this kind of assault is very much the sort of thing that the people will not forgive, nor will the gods, nor the King,” the High Sparrow tried again in vain to scare me.

“You’ll have the chance to discuss that with them soon enough if you don’t learn to be quiet and obey me. The people and the City Watch are with me, not with you. As for the King, I imagine that he’ll be grateful to the man who set his Queen free to return to him. Of course, some doubt lingers as to his legitimacy, anyway. That is why you were planning to arrest the Queen Regent, Cersei Lannister, were you not?” I confronted the High Sparrow now about something that he wouldn’t expect me to know.

“What spies did you have among my Sparrows? Who are you, really? How did you come to command so many followers and defeat the Faith Militant, entice the City Watch to depose their old Lord Commander and replace him with you, learn of my plans, recognize Brother Lancel so easily, convince so many women to accompany you, two of them in the nude, and acquire that one weapon of yours, the one that is said to make fire, smoke, and noise like thunder? Who are you?” the High Sparrow demanded.

“Death,” I told him, “and it’s not your place to accuse or interrogate me, cleric. I am the one asking questions now. Maybe I am Death, as I just said. Or maybe I’m Azor Ahai. Or the Night King.”

“Azor Ahai is blasphemous talk, nonsense perpetuated by the cult of the false god known as R’hllor, the Red God, or the Lord of Light. I have come to bring an end to any such false religions, deceptions, corruption, and destructive foreign influence. The Night King is a myth favored by Northerners prone to superstition due to their fondness for the primitive ways of the old, false gods of the forest... , “ the High Sparrow dismissed talk of any legends and stories favored by other sects.

“We shall see soon enough, you old charlatan. Anyway, I am Roger Waters, Lord Commander of the City Watch now. It just has to be confirmed by His Grace, Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. How do you imagine he will treat a man who liberated his wife and brother-in-law from unlawful captivity on baseless, capricious, and sanctimonious charges? How do you imagine he will regard the man who imprisoned his wife and brother-in-law, once he has that man in his power, which he will soon enough?” I warned the High Sparrow, making him shiver as Septa Unella emerged with Justen, Queen Margaery of House Tyrell, and her brother, Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers.

“Your Holiness, what has happened since... , “ the Queen stared at me in shock, not knowing a thing about this, and then she scanned the chamber to see that my guards and retainers were everywhere.

“You probably wonder who that man is with Septa Unella,” I commented, “he is Justen, Your Grace. A tavern keeper now in my service. I am acting as Lord Commander of the City Watch. My name is Roger Waters. As of tonight, I command and control most of King’s Landing, including the City Watch itself, the Great Sept of Baelor, and all of its environs, with only the Red Keep not yet in my power, and that is only due to Lannister guards present in the castle.”

“If you have indeed delivered me out of the hands of this oaf, milord, you shall soon be more than acting Lord Commander, I would think. My young husband, His Grace, the King, will surely reward you as amply as you deserve. I shall see to it, especially as you also freed my brother, O Lord of gaol breaks. Your King, Queen, Houses Baratheon and Tyrell, and I daresay, all of the Seven Kingdoms, are in your debt. Is he arrested?” Queen Margaery smiled upon seeing me and my naked and scantily clad ladies.

“He is, in your husband’s name, of course. We shall presumably discuss the charges on which he will be arraigned in the Small Council with the approval of the King, Queen, and Hand. Perhaps even the Queen Regent, perhaps not. For the present, though, let’s have these ... traitors committed to the Black Cells, shall we?” I offered my arm to the Queen and she smiled again upon taking it.

“I am in your capable hands, milord. Make sure that, if you get the chance to ravish any of the septas, you personally handle her, if you do not mind doing such a favor for me,” the Queen added with a wink.

“I shall consider that a royal command from my Queen, naturally, and seek to carry it out,” I grinned as I responded, “these charming lads are Damon and Arnie, fosterlings to Justen, and this is his daughter Bancey and his niece, Claere. These are Emely, Lara, Nora, Tenas, Janene, and Alyse. They’re whores.”

“I admire your candor, Lord Commander. I have no trouble with whores, as long as they are sensible, loyal, obedient ones. And who are the naked ones? Whores? Slaves?” the Queen asked me.

“Lovers from my years elsewhere. They seem to have tracked me down and I have insisted upon their nakedness as the price for any hope, now that I have the leverage for it. It does not trouble Your Grace, then, that they are nude?” I inquired.

“Not in the least. Perhaps your other whores should emulate them, and maybe so should the septas in their humiliation,” Margaery beamed.

“Oh, and this is Lancel Lannister, of course. I imagine that he’ll be in a Black Cell as well for a good while. Substantial charges can be levied against him on behalf of the Crown,” I pointed out Lancel, also under heavy guard, shackles now put on him as well as the rest of the principal clerics and figures in the Faith, even the most Devout.