Chapter 12 - The Joust and a Small Celebration
Chapter 12 - The Joust and a Small Celebration
"Who are you betting on?" Tybolt, who was sitting next to me, asked as he bit into a large sausage that he had brought with him.
"I set bets on both Ser Barristan and Arthur Dayne, both of them are immensly good at jousting."
'And pretty much everything else.' I added in my mind while also biting into one of the sausages Tybolt had brought with him. I let out a loud whistle as I swallowed the bite.
"This is really good." Tybolt's chest expanded with pride and he smiled.
"Well, this was made out of boar meat, so it has to be." He bit into his food once again, savoring the bite with closed eyes.
"I swear, you aren't going to find better sausages in the other kingdoms." I wasn't so sure about that, but what I was sure about was that we in the Riverlands had to start building more fields and make more nourishment for the future so that we wouldn't be as dependent on the other regions in the future.
"So...Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan, right? Isn't Dayne the newest Kingsguard, why him?" I looked at Tybolt, a bit confused at first, but then realized that Arthur couldn't have been a knight of great renown just yet.
"Well, seen as he's only what, 18 by now, and already has the white cloak, he ought to be a good knight, right?" Tybolt nodded and took a drag from the mug of ale he had in his hand.
"Are you going to drink so much?" I asked, one of my eyebrows raised as I stared at the size of the mug. Tybolt just nodded and slapped me on the shoulder.
"Of course, I will! Especially because I'm away from my father and Lord Tywin for a while." He shuddered slightly as he mentioned the Lannister's name before he turned to me.
"Let me tell you Donar, if there's one person you don't want to make your enemy, it's Tywin Lannister. The man's stare could melt the fucking Wall and turn Dorne into a freezing Iceland." He drank from the ale and then offered me the cup, which I took, and also took a small sip. I couldn't get drunk, especially because of the normal melee that would happen tomorrow. If I wasn't completely sober during it, I could forget about getting into the top ten immediately.
"Oh before I forget, Tybolt, you know something about this year's melee? I heard it is going to be spectacular." Tybolt looked at me and nodded, taking yet another large gulp from the ale.
"Course I did! There are going to be lots of famous fighters, though I don't know which ones specifically. A few of the Kingsguard are going to join in as well, alongside perhaps even Lord Steffon." I shuddered, already thinking about the possibility of having to face these monsters.
'Yeah, this time around I won't just storm into the battle.' That's what I assured myself before I nodded at Tytos's words.
"Yeah, it's going to be an absolute spectacle," I said before my eyes wandered down to the now heavily changed arena, that Tybolt and I fought in mere hours ago.
"Who did you bet on anyway?"
"My money is on Ser Steffon, the man is large as a bear and as strong as one too."
"Strength truly isn't everything, just look at the Kingsguard. Some of them are smaller than me and could most likely carve through me like a cake."
"You're right, but you are also no Steffon Baratheon. Or do you have Baratheon blood in your veins?" He asked, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Last time I checked my blood was still that of a Tully and a normal woman from the Stormlands. Wouldn't rule the possibility out that I have some Durrandon blood in me though." I said though I was truly unsure if I was even right in that aspect.
"Ah, doesn't matter, it's going to start soon enough," Tybolt said and pointed at the tents that the pages and servant were already setting up. And indeed, soon enough I could already see how the first knights began to enter the arena, though most of them weren't wearing their armor yet.
"How many are going to participate anyway? Knights, I mean?" Tybolt looked at me, one of his eyebrows raised but answered after a few seconds.
"If I had to guess, around 60? At least that's the minimum number I'd give them. You rarely have the opportunity to ride in front of the king after all." I nodded, though in truth I was a bit shocked at the amount of knights.
"Well, let's enjoy the spectacle then." Tybolt nodded, eating the last piece of his sausage and grabbing a second from a little bag on his side.
"Aye, let's do that."
*****
Jousting needed much more skill than I had even considered. Ever since I had gotten some help from Catelyn during our rides, I had slowly made my way from a miserable rider to a passable one, or at last I thought so. If I compared my riding skills to anyone but the very worst of the jousting, I would have lost, and it wasn't even up for debate. The amount of ease some knights displayed while they unhorsed their opponents was surreal.
I saw men being flung off their horses as if they weren't wearing heavy armor or hadn't braced themselves against the blow. It was scary how quickly the tilts sometimes happened too. Steffon Baratheon, who was wearing a very similar armor his son would one day use, was an especially monstrous rider, unhorsing even a member of the Kingsguard, Ser Gwayne Gaunt, after two of their lances broke. Tybolt had laughed after the Kingsguard fell and smiled.
"Just wait Donar, the winnings are mine," Tybolt said, and I could hear a group of Stormlanders near us cheer out loud. I just looked at the next two knights that were next and sighed.
"Just because he wins one joust doesn't mean he will win the entire thing." The older squire rolled his eyes, though I noticed how his eyes shone with a hint of humor.
The next two knights that would participate against each other were an unknown knight under the service of House Whent and a knight wearing armor that had been ornamented with flowers. Tybolt snorted next to me and handed me another sausage.
"Oh, this is going to be interesting. I wonder what Lord Mace is going to do." My eyes widened and I looked at the slim and fit man in the suit of armor that was readying his lance.
'That's Mace?'
The Rose Lord spurred his horse and aimed his lance at his opponent, who also did the same. The two knights collided with a surprising amount of force, and both were thrown backward. The Whent fell to the ground, but Mace had managed to keep the grip on the reins of his horse and managed to pull himself back into the saddle with a surprising amount of skill and strength. I could hear some knights, which were most likely stemming from the Reach, cheer their lord, while a few members of house Whent groaned slightly.
"Didn't think he would take the victory." Tybolt chuckled and then slightly changed his position to whisper into my ear.
"Mace might not the the smartest man, but what his skills as a knight are concerned, he isn't that bad." I nodded, reminding myself once again that the people that were in front of me right now weren't the ones I had read about or seen on the big screen. Some of them didn't even exist yet.
"Aha, look at this Donar! Witness how one of your champions gets beaten!" Tybolt's words brought me back to the present and I looked down to see Lord Steffon and Ser Arthur Dayne ready themselves for their turn.
"We will see, Tybolt, we will see," I said, though I had to admit that I wasn't wholly confident that Arthur was going to win after what I had seen Lord Steffon accomplish. Both knights spurred their horses, and soon enough they were upon each other, their lances directly meeting their foe. The first tilt didn't give any results, as the lances splintered on impact. The same happened during the second, third, and fourth tilt. When the fifth tilt commenced, both riders seemed to be tired and sore, though Lord Steffon's hold on his lance seemed to have weakened considerably compared to the prior rounds. As the two knights collided once again, Lord Steffon's grip on his horse's reins slipped, and the Lord Paramount crashed to the ground. I heard an audible crack ring through the entirety of the arena, and suddenly all yells of excitement had stopped. Tybolt, who had just been laughing out loud, cheering for the Lord Paramount, was deathly silent and his eyes had widened.
Lord Steffon wasn't moving anymore.
Ser Arthur immediately jumped off his horse and ran to the motionless Lard Paramount, but the silence that filled the arena was deafening compared to the excited screams from before. Dayne, who had now reached Lord Steffon's body, kneeled and unscrewed the antlered helmet.
"My gods didn't think that the Stranger was so ugly!" The loud, but still boisterous voice of Lord Steffon suddenly rang through the arena, followed by his loud and booming laughter. My eyes widened, though I could feel a smile starting to grow on my face.
'That absolute madman. He faked his fall, just to troll everyone here?'
The arena broke out into cheers once more as Dayne dragged the large Lord Paramount on his feet, and helped him leave the arena. I threw a large grin in Tybolt's direction, and his expression changed.
"Alright, fine, I'll pay you the ten Gold Dragons." I shook my head. While ten Gold Dragons was still a huge sum for me, I had a much better idea.
"How about the two of us wait here until either Barristan or Dayne wins the tourney, get my winnings, and then we talk about deals instead of money?" Tybolt threw me a strange look and shuddered.
"You remind me of Lord Tywin. Your look is similar too."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
*****
Arthur Dayne had indeed won the jousting, winning over the older Ser Barristan after their lances had broken seven times. Barristan had taken the loss with grace and congratulated the younger knight with a smile on his face and I had taken my not-so insignificant winnings from the bets I had made.
'Always bet on the underdog while he still is one.' I thought as I accepted the large bags of coins with a large smile. I would have to count my winning later, however, because I already saw Ser Desmond leaning against the side of a wall. The man's look was undecipherable but he waved me over after I had retrieved my winnings. When I had done so, I walked over to my second teacher and bowed slightly.
"Ser, may I have a talk with the Crakehall squire for a moment?" Desmond didn't reply immediately, but after a short amount of time, he nodded.
"Just make it quick, Lord Hoster and Ser Brynden are waiting for you." I nodded and quickly turned around to Tybolt, who was waiting for me on the other side of the room. When I got closer he pointed at Desmond, one eyebrow raised.
"You know him?"
"Was my teacher for the preparation of this tourney." Tybolt gave an acknowledging grunt.
"Should get me a teacher like him then." He cleared his throat, before switching the topic.
"Anyway, what did you want to talk about? How I will repay you because of the lost bet?" I nodded and clicked my tongue, smiling while I did so.
"Exactly, but I'm not interested in coin though, I need something else," I said, smiling at Tybolt, who just sighed.
"Alright, what do you want?"
"Well, perhaps to start, I wouldn't say no to a few specially bred boars and a few seeds for the grapes that grow in the Westerlands. I'd say four male boars and four female boars, along with three little bags of seeds were acceptable, no?" Tybolt stared at me before his eyes narrowed.
"So that's how it is, eh? You come here, you beat me up and then you make me your partner in a strange deal?" I looked at him but then nodded.
"The Riverlands need proper boar sausages too." Tybolt was silent before the large boy laughed and slapped my shoulder.
"It's a deal, a few grapes, and boars are nothing compared to ten Gold Dragons. Though you'll have to wait for a while, I will have to tell my father to organize it after all." I nodded and offered Tybolt my hand.
"Then let's shake hands to set the deal." The scion of Crakehall looked at me for a short while but then nodded as well and took the offered hand, squeezing it tightly as he did.
"You'll hear from me through a raven, alright?" Tybolt said and then looked at a passing passing servant with an entire plate full of food.
"I'll have to be somewhere." He said with a wink and ran off, leaving me behind for now.
'Hopefully, his father also agrees with the things he and I just set.' I thought while I moved back to Ser Desmond, who still was standing in the same position he had before.
"I'm ready, Ser," I said and looked him in the eyes. His face remained emotionless for a few more seconds until he chuckled.
"Donar, you cocky lad." I felt his arms wrap around my shoulder and he ruffled through my hair, smiling as he did so.
"You did it, won the squire's melee in your first year! You should have seen the face of Lord Hoster when you knocked those Frey boys on their asses!" His loud laughter echoed through the entire room we were in, and some people already turned their heads to us, some of which seemed to be a bit annoyed. Ser Desmond didn't seem to notice this however and led me outside, still laughing out loud.
"And then you even won some money at the jousting tourney. When we get home to Riverrun, you'll be a self-made man already." Desmond said as we reached the largest tent of the Tully camp, the one Hoster resided in. As we entered it, I saw Lord Hoster and Brynden, both of whom were standing in front of a little table. Hoster was the first to see me, and I even saw his normally stony lips crack into a smile as he motioned me to come closer.
"Come here and let us enjoy your victory." He took a pitcher of wine from the table and then filled three wine glasses that too were situated on the table before he handed one of them to me.
"Thank you, my Lord." He nodded and then handed Brynden the second glass. My biological father smiled at me, took a sip from the wine, and smiled.
"You showed them good, really good. It's been a few years since a Tully squire won a tourney."
"Well, let's hope there are a few tourneys in the next few years then." Brynden snorted and took another drink from his glass before his eyes fell on one of the large bags on my side.
"What is that?"
"This?" I patted the bag, which resulted in the sound of Gold Dragons and Silver Stags colliding with their high-pitched sounds.
"I bet on Arthur Dayne on the tourney and from the looks of it, many richer nobles didn't." Now it was Hoster's time to snort and he smiled.
"Old Walder bet on Ser Barristan. Normally it would have been a good decision, but it seems like he relied too much on it this year." He looked at me and nodded.
"Good choice."
"Thank you, my Lord." I too took a sip from the wine glass and let the liquid pour down my throat. I cringed slightly at the taste.
"Quite the fine vintage, isn't it? It's a wine from the Rewyne's." Hoster asked and took a long drag from his glass.
'I prefer the honey wine I had before.' The wine wasn't bad, but the bitter taste surprised me.
"Now, tell us how it felt to beat up those two Frey bastards," Brynden said, taking a seat on a chair as a large smile appeared on his face and he offered me a seat.
"With pleasure, my lord," I said, smiling slightly as I took the offered seat, letting my body fall into the chair.
The following story wasn't even the one about my greatest fight in the tourney, but Hoster, Brynden, and Desmond all seemed to enjoy it the most, at least judging from the amused glint in their eyes during my tale. All four of us spent the night with lots of laughter, drinks, and tales. I even managed to learn some things I hadn't known before, like the fact that we could soon, in two or three years, hope for a momentary peace between the Brackens and the Blackwoods because of a marriage between a Bracken man and a woman from the Arryn family.
'I could have sworn that I heard about this once...'
I couldn't dwell on the fact too long, however, because soon after it had just entered my head, Hoster already began another story, this time about the emergence of House Tully. The stories just kept flowing and flowing, until it was deep in the knight and all of us had to go to sleep, especially Brynden and Desmond, both of whom were going to partake in the melee tomorrow.
As would I, but they didn't need to know that yet.
*****
-A Few Hours Later-
I stood up later than anyone else in the Tully camp, and even went so far as to tell Brynden and Ser Desmond that I probably wouldn't be standing in the same viewing stands as the Tully guards, but would instead meet up with Tybolt. They had agreed after a short while, though I could see that Brynden still wasn't sure if I was telling the truth or not. After both of them had walked off, most likely to warm themselves up and ready their armor, I too had started moving. I walked into King's Landing, the scarf already wrapped around my head, and walked through the winded and crooked streets to arrive at my destination. When I did, I entered the shop, and the man at the counter immediately seemed to recognize me.
"Here they are Ser." The shop owner said as he got the painted equipment and passed it over the counter into my awaiting hands. I looked at each part of the armor, making sure I hadn't been swindled, and nodded when I was satisfied with the quality of it, especially the helmet. It was solid and wouldn't give in as easily as my last one had.
"Fetch me my shield and weapon as well," I said as I began to suit up, noticing that if I didn't do it now, I might lose even more time than I already had. The shop owner nodded and left to retrieve them, while I quickly started. The feet were the first to be armored and I worked my way up until the only two things that were missing were my helmet, the gauntlets, and the breastplate. As soon as the shop owner had returned I pointed at him.
"Help me with the breastplate and I shall reward you with another silver stag." Those words spurred the man on and he immediately helped me tie the armor correctly. I tested my mobility, which was a bit worse than in my normal armor but still acceptable, and then put on the gauntlets. The helmet would have to wait for just a few more minutes when I wasn't being watched. I turned toward the counter and looked at my weapons. The shield looked good and sturdy and the chance of it shattering was minimal, but the large padded mace he had readied for me still was quickly tested with a few swings.
"I had an experience," I said as I caught the confused look of the shop owner.
"I am content with this, I thank you for your service," I said after a few more experimental strikes with the weapon, and threw the one promised silver stag into the direction of the shop owner, who caught it and bowed.
"It was an honor Ser! If you ever need something, please visit my shop again." While I doubted that would happen, I still nodded when I left the shop, the helmet, and my weapons in one hand. I made my way back to the camp, out of the city, and donned the helmet. One last test of general mobility was made, and then I gripped my weapons.
'Time to see how far I can go.'
The thought was exhilarating. Facing opponents that were skilled enough to face my full might, just like Tybolt and the Lannister squire had been. I took the first steps toward the entrance of the arena, smiling widely as I did so.
I could have sworn something within me was burning with desire.