(Boy, [@MrDidact] is everywhere these days. Thanks!)

How appropriate. Meeting in the dead of night. On a night like this, so dark that even a god cannot see the hatching of a perfect plot. Jon raised his lamp hand, and lifted it up, then down, in a line pattern. That was the signal. From here, there would be no going back till old Frados was fallen.

The streets were asleep, until suddenly several men in dark cloaks appeared out of the haze of the night, advancing steadily towards Jon until they were within clear speaking distance. Most of them dispersed, taking positions along the street while three made for Jon himself. 

The man in the lead stopped short of the Roxton knight and threw back his hood, revealing an old knight. His black hair had gone mostly to grey, and his skin was wrinkled but he had the bearing and build of a lifelong soldier. 

He nodded at Jon and his voice came out as a low baritone, "Thank you for meeting with me Ser Jon. No winesink, but we needs must stay away from prying eyes." He smiled then and said, "Within a month your cousin will be dead, and you shall be the Lord of the Ring. Now let us discuss details, shall we?" 

"Well met, Lord Wythers. A fine night, heralding good times ahead," Jon responded, with a wicked smile. "You are a busy man, I'm sure. I shall try to preserve your precious time. Let us begin." His smile grew wider, looking for all the world as if a dagger had been laid across his face. "The Bushys have never been a major player in our little spot of the world. It has always been between the Roxtons and Wythers, battling it out through history to take control of land that is rightfully one, but has been split into three. I offer you an opportunity to change all that." Jon removed the satchel from his person, and began distributing papers among the Wythers people. "Maps of King's Landing, accurate as money can buy. Notes and plans, anticipating Frados' entry down to the count." He cannot tell if the Wythers agents approved, but their silence seemed to indicate for him to continue. "Frados is our lifelong enemy. Both of ours. He endlessly plots to steal the lives of noble Wythers, and he intends to find me right after. It is in our common interest, as well as the interest of the realm and the king, that he lay in the ground. Word is that his banners are raising, painted black."

Lord Wythers nodded, "He'll come down the roseroad with the rest of the Reachmen. We will have men watching him all the while. But we cannot strike until he and his entourage are to bed. We'll end his life while he sleeps. We can blame it on a peasant attack, with the tensions in the city. In the hustle of the King's funeral, we can pull this off in secret." 

He grimaced then, "Any hate you have for Frados, I have it tenfold. I will gladly welcome his end, my only regret will be that I can't witness it myself. Then we may present ourselves as the loyal vassals of King Aegon." 

Wythers crossed his arms, "We can announce your betrothal to my granddaughter. And your cousin Lindsay's betrothal to my grandson. We'll knit the houses together. And the Bushys will fall in line easily. Bend the knee to me and the valley will be ours." 

"A deal then," Jon said, taking a bow before Lord Wythers. "My respects . . . I hadn't realized I was to meet with the new High Lord."

Wythers smiled and motioned for Jon to rise, "That is the plan, and with it we can finally put this feud to rest. Just enjoy the funeral festivities, and you can woo the young lady of the Ring to our side. And soon I can call you my grandson. I believe that's all, Ser Jon?" 

"I see we are on the same page," Jon said. "I make for the Reach immediately, stopping not for rest. As you can imagine, I am eager indeed to return to my home. My castle. Goodbye for now, High Lord Wythers. I will see you again when I bend the knee." Jon took his fingers and squeezed the light in his lamp, plunging himself in dark.