12 Ch. 12 Ser Broom
Eleventh Day of the Sixth Moon, of the year 293 A.C.
Ser Broom stood at the edge of the training yard of Casterly Rock. He keenly watched three armored squires engaged in a heated duel.
Terro and Dyn wore a red tabard over their thick leather and plate mail. Additional padding was worn to provide adequate protection against blows from the dulled training swords. Ser Broom already knew the boys would need it. Despite being three and four name-days older, they were facing the Little Lion.
The second the match began, Lancel was a blur of movement. Despite being under five and a half feet tall, the boy moved with speed unseen by any of his size. Lancel's bastard sword and kite shield worked in sync to counter the assault of both of his opponents.
As his arms seamlessly switched between defending and attacking, his legs never stopped moving. Regardless of where or how he stepped, he remained balanced and unpredictable, constantly repositioning himself so that his two opponents could not coordinate their attacks.
Ser Broom easily spotted the Little Lion's flaws, but he moved too quickly for the inexperienced squires to capitalize on. Lancel's speed was his biggest weakness at the moment. He was relying too heavily on it. Lancel may be able to use his quickness in a duel, but it would be his undoing in a battle. No man can maintain that speed for long, and when his endurance wanes he will be utterly fucked on a battlefield.
Ser Broom watched as Lancel swung his sword more than both his opponents combined. The dull thud of Lancel's shield against padded flesh was followed by a curse from Dyn.
'The boy deserved that,' Ser Broom thought to himself.
Watching how sloppy Lancel's strikes were becoming, Ser Broom decided to make the Rock's Little Lion conduct each sword swing one-hundred times before his training was done for the day. 'Make that five-hundred,' Ser Broom thought after he observed Lancel perform a jumping high-thrust.
Ser Broom was just about to begin berating the three boys, when Lancel threw a feint towards Dyn's groin, only to redirect the thrust and catch the taller squire in the slim gap of Dyn's throat protection.
"Dead!" Ser Broom bellowed as Dyn dropped in a coughing fit.
With only Terro left to face, Lancel launched a full attack against the larger squire. Terro wasn't fast enough to meet all the attacks and took a multitude of blows. In the span of only a few breaths, the gold-clad Lancel stood victorious over his opponent.
Without hesitation or any sign of mockery, the Little Lion tucked his training sword under his shield arm and offered his free hand to his downed opponent. Terro laid on the ground for a moment in indecision, and Ser Broom thought the boy would reject Lancel's offer. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.
To Ser Broom's pleasant surprise, Terro put his pride aside and grasped the offered hand.
Before a word could be exchanged between the boys, Ser Broom stepped forward and began to ruthlessly berate all three squires. He pointed out the mistakes each one made and instructed them in how it should have been done. Once he finished, he continued to ridicule their performance for a moment longer.
When Ser Broom noticed Lancel wasn't even breathing hard, he decided it was time for the boy to learn a hard lesson. Speed has its uses, but skill still rules the battlefield. It's just unfortunate there wasn't a squire capable of giving the boy the required education.
"Terro! Dyn! Off the field!" Ser Broom ordered.
"Yes, Ser," the young men responded as they made their way out of the dueling ring.
Ser Broom looked towards a few knights standing just off the edge of the dueling ring. "Ser Dennett," The master-at-arms called. When Ser Broom had the knight's attention, he waved him into the dueling ring.
Ser Dennett has been an ordained knight for three years. While not truly impressive at the age of two-and-twenty, he possessed the required skill.
The plate-clad knight, standing at six feet tall, confidently strides towards the dueling ring. Before stepping into the sandy area, Ser Dennett places his helmet on and collects a worn kite shield and a blunted sword. Properly armed, the knight steps up beside Ser Broom.
Ser Broom glanced up at a balcony that overlooked the training grounds, before returning his attention to Lancel. 'Try not to disappoint them, Little Lion,' Ser Broom thought to himself.
"Prepare yourself, Little Lion." Ser Broom told Lancel. Looking to the tall knight, "End it quickly, Ser Dennett."
"Of course," Ser Dennett replied as he lowered the visor on his helmet.
***********************************
Tywin and Kevan stood silently on a finely carved balcony, overlooking the training grounds.
Kevan rested his hands on the banister as he carefully observed his eldest son, a boy of only one-and-ten, about to face an ordained knight, ten years his senior. Kevan remained poised, despite his building anxiety. That anxiety peaked when the Master-At-Arms shouted his order to begin.
Ser Dennett immediately launched the offensive against Lancel, attempting to use his strength and skill to end the match as quickly as possible. The crisp clang of metal on metal followed the combatants as Ser Dennett mercilessly drove the young boy back.
Lancel did not have the strength to correctly withstand blocking Ser Dennett's sword, and Ser Dennett was skilled enough to not allow Lancel to evade all of his strikes.
Kevan's knuckles popped as he squeezed the stone baluster. He desperately wanted to shout out instructions to his son, but he refrained. Kevan knew the full value of learning a lesson, and the training grounds is the preferred place to learn from your mistakes.
A sense of panic hit Kevan as Ser Dennett's overhead strike drove Lancel to the ground, despite him blocking the blow. Before Kevan was able to react, Lancel turned his fall into a diving-roll that allowed him to find his feet before Ser Dennett could close the distance between them.
Like the lion that he is, Lancel threw himself at Ser Dennett with a barrage of swift thrusts. Ser Dennett was struck several times before he tightened his defense and began making his own assault.
The two became a whirlwind of steel and leather. Lancel no longer tried to block Ser Dennett's blows. He concentrated on tight parries and redirecting each swing of Ser Dennett's sword.
Kevan watched as Ser Dennett made a swift forward thrust that looked to get past Lancel's shield. Kevan's breath caught in his throat as he saw Lancel's shield fall, and Lancel grabs the wrist of Ser Dennett's sword arm. Lancel twisted and spun, throwing Ser Dennett over his shoulder and onto the ground.
Before anyone could react, Lancel was standing over the downed knight. With one hand still firmly held onto Ser Dennett's sword arm, Lancel's sword was placed at the neck of his opponent.
Kevan Lannister slapped the top of the railing in celebration. Overcome with pride and adrenaline, Kevan took several steps back with his fists clenched tight. It took him nearly a minute to calm himself enough to resume his place beside Tywin. Even then, Kevan's face shone with pride.
Glancing at his lord and brother, Kevan resumes watching the squires. "I'm sure it was just 'luck'," Kevan causally said.
Tywin snorted in response to his brother.
Kevan turned to face Tywin. "I am considering having Lancel fostered with Lord Marbrand. He could learn much at Ashemark and..."
"No," Tywin interrupted. Staring down at his nephew, Tywin continued. "Lancel will remain here, at Casterly Rock."
"And your justification?" Kevan asked in a neutral tone.
"It would be too dangerous to hand him over to those I do not fully trust." Tywin vaguely replied. At Kevan's pointed stare, Tywin resumed his explanation. "You were witness to what the boy could do when properly motivated. His innovations have seen our merchants increase profits by thirty percent. And his naval plans have made House Lannister the fastest ships on the sea. It's possible he enables his fostered house to climb beyond their status. I will not allow another house to gain the means to rebel against us."
Kevan was quiet as he thought over Tywin's words. After a moment, he asks, "So what is your plan? To keep him locked away from the world?"
"Lord Lefford has sent reports of bandit activity near the border of Riverrun. I want you to take five-hundred men and Lancel, and put an end to those bandits." Tywin ordered.
"You wish to bloody the boy?! He is only one and ten!" Kevan angrily said.
Tywin finally turned to face his brother. Easily meeting his brother's gaze, Tywin confessed his thoughts. "I wish for him to become familiar with the army, to generate his own ideas and thoughts on our troops. Allow him to freely speak with the soldiers and answer any question he should raise. Now, go prepare. You leave in three days' time."
