Chapter 20

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***

Damian Blackheart.

Training was in full swing.

I was able to combine my training with a plan to form friendships with certain individuals in King's Landing. Most notably Ser Baristan Selmy, Ser Aris Ockhart, Lord Berrik Dondarrion, and even Mendon Moore. We became friends with the first three quite quickly though, and enjoyed training on swords and spears, even working in pairs in battles. All in all, we had a fruitful co-operation.

Mendon Moore turned out to be a tough nut to crack. Of course, he agreed to sparring and even trained with our trio from time to time. But he still tried to be his own man. Talking to him was difficult, despite my best efforts. And if it hadn't been for an accident, I probably wouldn't have achieved anything in the field of friendship with him.

As we finished one of our sparring sessions, drinking water and preparing to leave, I made another attempt to get him to talk.

- You, Ser Mendon, are a very silent man. - I sighed tiredly, no longer going along with the established plan of conversation. - I suppose my mother was the same, for all her belligerence and skill with weapons. Anyway, my brother tells me that almost all the women in our family were not much for conversation. They're belligerent and determined, not unlike the ladies of Westeros.

- What?" he turned to me in surprise.

I tsked, only realising that he might have taken my words about 'looking like a woman' the wrong way.

- I did not mean to insult you Ser Mendon. I merely compared your reticence and reticence to the only other similar person I know. Though I never knew her personally. She died when I was a year or two old. Lost in the Disputed Lands. She was of ancient Braavos lineage herself and was a warrior. She was a mercenary for my father, Lord Walder Frey of the Twins.

- I took no offence. - he replied and sat down beside her. - You are not a welcome child to her, sire? Why didn't she use the Moon Tea or use up the foetus?

- For women of her kind, children are in some ways sacred. - I realised he was on to something and continued the dialogue. - Not so much for men, really. It's just that she's a warrior by nature, they all want to shed blood and break bones for someone or themselves. Oh, and we have more girls born in our lineage than men. It must be some kind of curse of the Lion of the Night. Well, it's a bloodline curse, because we're his descendants.

- I've never noticed your piety. - he said.

- That's true. I know that the Lion of the Night and maybe even other gods exist. But I don't give a damn about them, just as they don't give a damn about me. Gods are far away and people are closer. - I shrugged. - So I live in the present, but I don't forget that I need to leave something behind.

- I'd heard of the Lion of Night once, but I wasn't really interested. What is this religion?

- Ha! I'd love to explain, but I'd probably have to call my brother Rex. But he's out hunting. He grew up in a temple in Braavos, and I only found out about my relatives a little over a year ago. Though... if you have the desire and the time, I suggest we visit our humble abode tonight and over a mug of beer, ale, or wine we'll tell you about our clan, religion, and more.

He stared at me for a while, then closed his eyes and nodded, deciding something for himself.

- I agree. I have no duty today and I'm free.

- Then we shall wait for you, Ser Mendon.

Then I probed the only possible topic of conversation. Though I wasn't quite sure whether it was the mother or religion. But the evening's conversation made it clear.

After about three hours of unhurried conversation, and Rex was having a good time, Mendon, already tipsy, told us about his childhood and the fact that his mother had been killed by his father. She was a member of one of the Moon Mountain clans. When she was young, she was captured by the knight Moore Senior, who fell in love and married her. They had three children, two of whom died as infants. Only Mendon survived and lived to see the decade in which he saw with his own eyes his father kill his mother. He did not know the reason for his act. As soon as the older man walked away and left his wife's corpse alone with his son, he slipped on the stairs hours later, already drunk, and broke his neck.

In general, this tragic incident for the boy and influenced his behaviour and the formation of his personality.

After that, there was a long bender that day. We slipped him a whore from Katai's brothel and started having fun ourselves.

After that incident, Mendon and I became closer and he was more talkative with us. Ser Barristan noticed this and wondered how we managed to befriend the most unsociable man in the Seven Kingdoms.

But the fact remains. Little by little we grew closer and I learnt new information about Mendon.

Besides the Royal Guards and Berrick Dondarrion, I was also busy reinforcing my Sorrowful with scholars and hard-working men. As it turned out, there was plenty of work in the capital, but because of Robert's policies, or rather his lack of them, and Baelish's actions to his advantage, several dozen good masons, merchants, and craftsmen of all sorts are poor and on the verge of bankruptcy. So they took my offer to relocate at my expense and give them a "raise" to settle in the richest town on the eastern seaboard, if you don't count Twilight's Dome, which I'm sure we'll soon overtake, with great gratitude and joy. So I sent one of the ships that had come with us back to my fiefdom with the recruited men, while tasking John, Rex and his men to find out what else was interesting. John was personally supervised by Rex, because I couldn't send my future king all alone. Besides, Rex is experienced in many things and will teach John to do so as well. A double benefit, as they say.

As I went about my business, I did not notice that the Tournament of the Hand had come.

And of course I took part, as did some of my men. Lesho, Varick, and John wanted to prove themselves in the archery contest. Varick and Theo Frey, myself and Varick. Just as the three of us will take part in the main competition for the prize of 40,000 dragons in gold. Of course, it's not certain that I'll win it, but as they say, it's worth a try.

The rest of the guys were only spectators and cheered for us or a couple of other worthy knights.

The tournament was attended by all the knights of the Kingsguard, led by Lord Commander Ser Baristan, King Renly Baratheon's brother, and many other knights of the realm from the Dornish to the Free Riders of the North and Ned Stark's guards, from the Knights of the Stormlands and the Maroc to Tyrell and Lannister vassals. Notable participants included Beric Dondarrion, Grigor Clegane, Sandor Clegane, Jaime Lannister, Lyn Corbray, Jon Royce, and Loras Tyrell.

On the first day of the tournament, only individual duels took place. Each distinguished knight was able to take down at least one lesser opponent. So, they did not lose ignominiously.

My first opponent was a sword knight, and I knocked him down in the first encounter. Then I had Ser Greenfield, who I fought three times, and only the third time I made him lie on the ground.

The third was a Dornish knight who was quite experienced. He nearly knocked me out of the saddle in the first encounter, and I could barely hold on. On the second attempt, chance won the day. The Dornier's horse hurt his leg and fell ten metres away from me at a gallop, the Dornier was badly bruised and had a broken leg.

Fourth I fell to Jory Cassel. He was just as hard to deal with, both times we broke our spears against each other and it was only on the third time that I knocked him to the ground.

Sometime after that, when I was resting, I learnt that there had been an "accident" with Ser Hugh of the Vale. The lad had fallen for Grigor Clegane, and that was that.

The fifth I came across was Jaime Lannister himself. And I'd have loved to roll him on the ground. But three tries and we'd just be smashing spears into each other. Robert gave us three more tries, and only on the sixth time, when we broke our spears against each other again, did he award a "technical" victory to me. Although I was well aware that we had a real draw. But Robert's dislike of the Lannisters played its part. Jaime congratulated me on my victory, and without rancour he saw me as a worthy opponent, except that his loss was more Robert's merit as host of the event.

On the sixth time I faced Lord Lothar Mullery, a native of the Crownlands. Luck was on my side here too, though he is a weaker opponent and seems to be less fortunate. In the first skirmish, he went down.

The last of the day I had a seventh run, in which I met Sandor Clegane. Three times we broke lances and when we were assigned three more laps, I managed to knock him to the ground on the fourth. And I fell myself, but a little later with a delay almost at the end of the course, so I was still the winner.

My body was a little bit sore. There were some new bruises and abrasions. Especially a lot on the rib cage. But nothing broken and there was no internal bleeding thankfully.

In the end, the next day there were four finalists: Grigor Clegane, Lyn Corbray and Loras Tyrell. I, of course, was the fourth.

Then came the feast, at which the king expressed his desire to take part in the general fight tomorrow. But he was dissuaded by the whole world. In the end, he got tired of arguing with his entourage and gave up the idea.

On the second day, I faced Loras Tyrell. Knowing what kind of shenanigans he could pull, I also took a mare. So he and I got close and... I took him down. Hmm, that sounded a little ambiguous, but I can't help it....

Grigor Clegane defeated Lyn Corbray and we met in the finals. Anyway, I still have a chance to get twenty thousand even for losing. That's just as good.

We went in close and broke our spears against each other. I almost fell out of the saddle. Grigor is a very powerful man.

Second convergence and again we break our spears against each other's shields.

The third time I was lucky, and Clegane's horse was a little sideways, so he missed and I hit his shield. I got a point. I was glad, because after that Robert announced that I was the winner of the tournament.

Which meant that the 40,000 gold dragons I was entitled to would come into my possession, if not today, then tomorrow!

I was ready to take the wreath from the king's hands, which I would give to the lady I was ready to call the local beauty queen. But we were interrupted by Grigor Clegane, who, as I noticed with the corner of my eye, had chopped off the head of his horse with his double-edged sword and was coming towards me with a grimace of anger and rage for losing. I saw it and inwardly chuckled. At the act.

Pulled my legs out of my stirrups and was ready to attack.

- Look out! - John shouted and I had already "reacted" and quickly slid out of the saddle and onto the ground.

- Sword! - I shouted to my men.

Grigor and I were separated only by my horse, which was cut in two.

At the same second John threw me my sword and I was ready to repel the attack.

The next thing that happened was a quick fight between us to the shouting of the crowd and the outrage of Robert Baratheon.

Grigor swung at me, but I sidestepped and counterattacked him, slightly wounding his left arm. He was quick to react and tried to swing at me again, but I ducked and took a few steps back. He was about to charge at me again, but I threw my tournament shield at him, which he immediately tried to knock down with his blade, and I ducked down and lunged upwards. As he drew both hands holding his sword to his right side to get rid of the pesky shield I was throwing at him. The end of my sword entered his throat.

Everyone froze, even Sandor, Mendon Moore, Baristan Selmy, Rex, Varick, Theo Frey, and Gerda and Obara who had rushed to my aid froze in place seeing that I wouldn't need any more help.

One step forward and the blade came out, cutting its way through my neck vertebrae from behind. The Mountain was trying to take me with him, and with the last of his strength he tried to slash at me, but I let go of the blade and ducked under his arms. He collapsed to his knees, dropping his two-handed sword and convulsing in his own blood.

- You have chosen the wrong opponent, Grigor Clegane. I'm not a flirtatious wench or an infant. - I grinned and pulled my sword from his throat and immediately blew his head off.

A fountain of blood spurted upwards, showering both me and the ground around me with the blood of the Mountain. My face must have looked like a tomato, only not from the pressure or the rush of blood, but from being stained with the blood of my opponent who had done something stupid.

I lifted his head and grinned.

- Don't look at me like that Sandor. Whoever blew your brother's head off first is the best. - I looked at the disgruntled face of the Dog, who just wanted to blow his head off or set it on fire. - If it's any consolation, I owe you a barrel of Arborian and a barrel of Dornish.

- Grrrrr!

- Don't growl, dog, or you'll get a second pair of legs and an extra tail. - to which the ladies giggled. - Mind you, I earned that trophy. - and shook that exuberant head in front of me.

- And what are you going to do with it? - Mendon Moore asked, putting his sword back into its scabbard, which the others did as well. - I mean the head.

- I'll put it on a pike and put it over the city gates at the Mourner's. So that the others won't be allowed to attack me without warning, sneakily and from behind.

Most of the men grinned approvingly, but Ser Baristan had mixed feelings. I could see in his eyes both satisfaction and disapproval, relief with a touch of joy. He probably did not like the idea that I had cut off the head of a "knight" and a "lord" and wanted to put it on a spade, and I said it openly in front of everyone. But on the other hand, it was Grigor "The Mountain" Clegane who raped and murdered Elia Martell, smashed the head of little Prince Aegon and in general he is a very unpleasant and cruel figure in the Seven Kingdoms. Nobody liked him at all. So, minus for minus gives you a plus....

- Lord Blackheart. - I was brought back to reality by the King's voice. - You surprise me again. - Robert chuckled contentedly. - Not only did you win the tournament, but the Mountain was stripped of his head for attacking you. I guess I thought for good reason that the elderly Frey might have someone of real worth. A bastard son, it's true. But maybe that's even better.

I turned my attention to Jaime and Cersei. Jaime was smiling oddly, but he was clearly unhappy that I'd killed the Mountain. And Cersei just didn't show signs of annoyance and hatred towards me, perhaps her relieved look at Clegane's corpse that his own squires were trying to carry off meant she was even content with Clegane's death. Since she was the one who ordered Hugh of the Vale killed, and here the only doer and possible witness is dead, thanks to me. But on the other hand, she's lost a good bouncer who had served their family faithfully, as it were. I probably shouldn't worry about a stab in the back from them. Tywin, on the other hand, might be annoyed and unhappy about the death of his best enforcer of dirty deeds. Then there's Amory Lorch.

- As it is. - I smiled back at him and handed the sword to John to clean the blood from it.

The herald gave me a wreath to give to the one I deemed worthy of the title of beauty and tournament queen.

Before this I thought of laying it on Cersei of course, but on the other hand that could end badly, or rather I could worsen relations with Robert, Ned Stark, Jaime Lannister and a bunch of other people early on. It's not that Robert was jealous of his wife, no, he just hated her, and if I recognised her beauty and superiority, I could damage our relationship. In the meantime, I don't benefit from it.

So I did one of the best twists of fate and laid a wreath on the hands of Tiene Sand, who was surprised by my action, but accepted it with a smile. Obara, on the other hand, had jealousy in her eyes, while Nymeria's eyes were filled with excitement, slight resentment, and amusement. She seemed to be interested in how this story between me and her sisters would end.

And so was I, for her two sisters also had a strange gleam in their eyes, so I think tonight will be an interesting evening....

Then came the skirmish, which I participated in, but didn't win. But Varik did, and he got twenty thousand, but none of us won the archery competition. Engai the Archer was the best of all the contenders, though Lesho and Jalabhar Xo came in second, followed by John and Baylon Swann in fourth, with Varick in fifth place. Although he had hurt his arm a bit in the overall competition and was very tired yesterday, so it was an uneven competition for him. With Lesho, despite everything, they always showed almost equal results. But it is what it is. The main thing is that we performed decently.

After the tournament, we went to a general feast, where we drank until we couldn't speak. Most of us, anyway. I listened to the "girlish nonsense" of Tiena, who tried to gain my trust under the guise of a "common fool". But it didn't take long for her to rub and drip on my brains. Varick insisted with an ironclad argument that we must visit the brothel of Cathay and Baelish!

I had to go along with my boys. Besides, most of the guests were already drunk and we had nothing planned for the next few days, so we could have some fun.

To be continued...