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***
272 A.D.
Here came the tournament. From the very morning the streets of the city were filled with crowds of people screaming and frantic in some kind of epileptic fit. The reason was simple - King Aerys II himself had entered the city with his son, 13-year-old Prince Rhaegar. Because of the clogged streets, trees and windows all along their route, I watched them from the roof of the inn I was staying at, located on the main street of the city.
The royal family was beautiful. Now I understood why everyone who had seen the descendants of ancient Valyria called that vanished people the most beautiful in the world. Their aristocratically pale skin, their white hair shimmering with gold or silver, their facial features combining softness and a slight sharpness, coupled with their eyes shimmering like expensive amethysts, made them some of the most beautiful people I'd seen in both my lives. It was a breed. A breed created over the millennia of Valyria's existence and one of the last reminders of its existence.
At least that was true of the prince. Two heads shorter than me, he gave the impression of a kind of poet, melancholy and slightly lethargic, not sure what he was doing here or why he'd been forced to come here. Though his posture gave him the appearance of a well-trained warrior. But Aerys... The king's eyes spoiled the whole impression of him. Constantly running, glittering, changing tone and meaning several times a minute, with characteristic bags. It was obvious that this man was not himself. Beneath the expensive armor, good looks, and royal grandeur he had absorbed from his mother's milk, there was something unpleasant, slimy, and disgusting lurking.
"Though it is disguised very well" - I thought, taking one last look at the back of the royal procession. - "It's hard for people without a lot of life experience to see it. I hope the Golden Lion is among that number."
The first 2 days at the tournament were entirely devoted to jousting - padarm and jostre. The next three days will be followed by general combat, archers, axe throwers, singers and races. And the last days are again given to knights who like to poke their neighbors with a spear at full gallop. I was interested in the middle three days. I had already signed up for all the competitions taking place during that time, except for the singing competition. As my mother, who taught my brother and me music and poetry, used to say, it was like a bear stepped on my ear and then jumped up. Three times.
The next two days were spent in the inn practicing and preparing for the trials. Only in the evenings I was distracted to talk to my new acquaintances, who were returning from the stands at the ring. When asked why I didn't attend the "show," my answer was disinterest in these games. It was probably one of the few things my brother and I were totally in agreement on. We tried to learn how to spear-fight so we could give our sisters jousting shows, but even the little twins realized and discouraged us when they saw our "satisfied" faces after a few tries. Boredom is mortal.
It wasn't until the third day that I left the inn, preparing for the most important event for me - the general fight.
«I didn't know you were a warrior, Felix. - Said Joan, helping me put on my armor. Usually squires or hired help fill that role, but the redhead and his brothers had asked very strongly to be escorted to the parking lot. Who am I to refuse the good guys?
«It's not a secret. - I answered, adjusting the last straps of my shoulder pads and arm bands. - You've seen the sword I've had on my belt since we met.
«Yes, but for a warrior, you're too good at blacksmithing. - One of the brothers, Rick, I think it was. They were both tall, only half a head shorter than me, and bald guys, with muscular arms and legs, powerful torsos and shoulders. To my mind, they looked more like highwaymen than apprentices in one of the best jewelry shops in town. But, according to Joen, they could take a hammer to the face in case of trouble.
«Who forbids a man to be a warrior and a blacksmith? - The helmet on my head made my voice sound muffled and hard to hear. - I simply honor the two manifestations of the One, not one of them.
I fixed my shield on my back and picked up my axe, and headed out of the tent. The fight would begin in a few minutes. Can't be late, there's good money at stake.
P.O.V. Jaime Lannister
«Sit here and try to stay out of your father's sight. - Mom said softly as always, stroking Ceri and me on the head. She looked even better today than yesterday. Her soft and silky hair, as fine as the rare fabrics that traders bring from across the sea, shone like pure gold, making her the most beautiful mother in the world. - If you catch his eye, he'll pull your ears off.
«Okay, mom. - At the same time we responded, hugging her by her small tummy, in which our brother or sister is now growing. Or maybe both.
«Why can't we sit next to the king and dad? - Seri asked once again, tugging her mom's sleeve a few times. Dressed in a beautiful red dress, the same color as my doublet and breeches, she was an exact replica of Mom. Only smaller. - I really want to see Prince Rhaegal.
«Rhaegar, my daughter. - Mama smiled her radiant smile, the kind that makes even Papa melt. - Your father must speak to the king as Hand to Sovereign. We are not allowed to be there. And the prince is sitting in the library right now, and has asked not to be disturbed.
Her smile twisted briefly at that moment. On the first day of the tournament, King Aerys looked at my mother strangely and shouted something to her. I was far away and couldn't hear. But at that moment my father's face turned very black and veins appeared on his temples. After that mom was taken away from the royal box, and she has been sitting with us for the third day, watching the tournament from a secret alcove.
«Mom, you're going to be a beauty queen until the end, aren't you? - Seri asked, climbing onto her mom's lap and looking at her with those pitying eyes that almost everyone falls for.
«It all depends on who the knights choose and how often the defenders are replaced. - Said the mother, holding her little sister tightly against her.
«You will remain her. If they don't choose you, father will tear their heads off! - My sister threw up her fist belligerently, making me laugh so hard my stomach churned.
«You can't say that to a lady, dear. - Mom shook her head disapprovingly, but Ceri and I could tell she liked our threat to the poor knights. Dad can really rip their heads off.
«Is the knights' jousting again tonight? I want to see Ser Barristan the Brave knock that Pomegranate Knight out of his saddle. - I leaned over the railing and said, gazing out toward the ring, where there was no divider today. - Mom, why isn't that fence there today? Is there going to be something different today?
«Today there will be a general bout and an archery contest. - Gently pulling me away from the parapet by the scruff of my neck, she informed me.
«Watching a bunch of knights floundering in the mud and the nobles punching stuffed animals. - Ceri said, looking up at the sky. - It's boring.
«Why not? They say that Ser Barristan Selmy and Prince Lieven Martell, two of the strongest royal guards, will take part in the general fight this time. - Mother muttered in response, jabbing at the top of Cersei's head for a moment and then immediately pulling away. - There, look. It's starting.
Indeed it is. The horn sounded and the ring began to fill with people. I recognized almost all the crests of the West, grouped together, such as the houses of Brax, Westerling, Just, Kenning, Crakehall, Lefford, Lydden, Marbrand, Morland, Plumm, Prester, Sarvik, and Serrett. Along with them were 5 other groups led by Tyrell roses, Tully trout, Martell sun, Arryn falcon and Baratheon stag. Another group consisted of rare Knights of the North in alliance with free riders. Naturally, there were also loners, like the lanky man with the axe in his hands standing at the edge of the ring.
The horn sounded and the battle began. The Spacers and Stormwalkers clashed with the Dornish, the Rivermen attacked our vassals, and the Free and Northmen, for lack of rivals, clashed with the Valley warriors.
The most interesting and brutal part of the general fight began. Dozens of knights, without any hint of formation, as they teach in the books I hate, fought each other with swords, shields, and fists. Soon most of the participants fell down and were carried off the field by their squires. Immediately the strongest warriors became visible.
In the white cloak and armor of the Royal Guard, only changing his usual helmet for a large pot helmet, Ser Barristan Selmy fought. Like the very embodiment of the Warrior on earth, he wielded his blade, incapacitating his enemies with every movement.
"Simplicity and skill. Like true art."
In the same white cloak, but in already light Dornish armor, Lieven Martell glided across the field, making rare and light lunges, after which people folded in half.
"Flutter like a butterfly, pity like a bee."
The third person who stood out, surprisingly, was that dildo. Tall, half a head taller than all the knights present, he uncomplicatedly sent everyone who approached him flying with crushing blows of a two-handed axe, which he held in only one hand.
"How primitive."
«Mom, who's that knight? - Ceri, like me, noticed him too. He had a shield on his back and was wearing armor without any crest. But my father said that anyone who comes to a tournament creates a crest. Even the most obscure and uncultured. This is a gray void.
«I don't know, my daughter. - Said the mother, frowning slightly, as if remembering something. - But the way he looked reminded me of someone. We'll find out soon enough.
She was right. Soon there were only three people left on their feet in the arena - the royal guards and that unknown warrior.
«What are they doing? - Cersei asked, watching the three of them circling the arena like kites to the booing cries of the crowd. At that question, my mother only glanced at one of the lancers guarding our alcove.
«My lady, look at the king's guards. They're looking over their heads. - Indeed, their heads occasionally twitched and the distance between them slowly decreased. - They must have agreed to defeat the unknown and fight each other afterward.
His words were true. Lord Barristan and Prince Lieven joined forces and began to push the lanky man to the edge of the ring, pinning him on both sides.
«Look, he's panicking! Coward! - Hanging over the fence, Seri shouted, quickly dragged back by her mother before anyone could see her. She was right. The big guy started looking around quickly, as if looking for a way to escape, and even almost tripped over someone's body, still lying unconscious. This was already being laughed at by the entire audience. The king's laughter was especially loud from his box.
But the laughter abruptly stopped.
What happened next, I will remember all my life. I was so shocked by the events of that day.
Here was the giant, instantly accelerating and releasing his axe from his hands, grabbing the body lying next to him by the leg.
Here he is, at a tremendous speed not expected from such a bulky man, hitting Ser Barristan from top to bottom with an unknown body.
Ser Barristan dodges with ease, moving slightly to the side, and counterattacks with his sword, aiming to strike his opponent in the unprotected visor.
And he flew back from a terrible blow with an iron fist right in the face, falling and dragging himself across the arena, raising a plume of dust and sand behind him.
He never moved again.
Only later, after thinking it over properly and learning the details, did I realize that his opponent had let go of that body halfway through the blow, moments before colliding with the ground, shortening the distance and using his speed and weight to strike his left fist into the King's Guard's blind spot. It was a ploy built on deception and Ser Selmy's ignorance of that warrior's capabilities.
Dead silence reigned. Me, Seri, my mother, the soldiers present, and the rest of the onlookers were all in shock. Most of them were sitting there with their eyes bulging and mouths open, resembling fish that had just been caught. Just now, a knight considered one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, the victor of Meilis Two-headed, the last Blackfire, was defeated in just a few moments.
Two things helped him out of his stupor - the loud laughter coming from the royal box, and the unknown warrior who took advantage of the hiccup by removing his shield from his back and drawing his sword from its sheath, standing in a middle stance suitable for both defense and offense.
Prince Lieven, too, recovered quickly and rushed into the fray. It soon became clear that the bulky man was just pretending before. Straight as a stick, the blows were replaced by a real dance with the sword, where each blow was an application of the previous one, seeking to seep into any gap in the enemy's defense. Taking all attacks with his spear on his shield, he raced the Kingsguard across the arena.
«Martell will win. - Quietly whispered one of our guards, hoping no one would hear him in the general clamor. They did.
«Why do you say that? - I asked loudly, drawing attention to myself. On the one hand, the guards should be as quiet as silent sisters, but on the other hand, I was beginning to wonder who would emerge victorious.
«My lord, I...
«No, answer me. - Seri interrupted him, smiling at him with the smile of a true lioness seeing a lamb. She had copied it from her mother long ago and kept improving it. With a slight hesitation, the guard answered nonetheless.
«Prince Lieven Martell has been a royal guard for ten years now. I've seen his duels before. He flutters around his enemies, launching continuous attacks until they collapse from blood loss. That warrior was lucky to defeat Ser Barristan. Soon he would make a mistake and also lie on the sand.
But his words did not come true. The fight had already lasted ten minutes, during which the Dornish had changed three spears and had already used a fourth. He had to move constantly to get around the shield and strike at the gaps in the armor, and the Grey Knight, as the tribunes had already dubbed him, did not let him reach him. It became clear that Lieven's strategy was being turned against him - either he was a Dornish goat jumping around his opponent, attacking at the always on-time shield, or jumping again, for when he stopped, he would be attacked with his sword.
"The fight will go on until the first mistake by one of them."
The mistake didn't happen until a quarter of an hour later, when almost everyone in the stands was already tired and had almost stopped watching the fight. Prince Lieven stumbled. He tripped over the very axe that the Gray Knight had thrown in the middle of the fight. He was no fool, immediately lunging with his sword and fending off the last blow with his spear, he put the blade to the neck of the royal guard.
«The victory goes to Felix of House Cold! - The voice of the steward resounded over the stands, followed by the loud roar of the crowd. Even here they could hear the curses of those who had bet on Martell and the cheers of those who had risked betting on the dark horse.
Only the raised palm of his father's hand silenced the crowd and the herald called the winner to the royal box.
«Take off your helmet. - Said the father, whose voice and appearance was now more majestic than that of the king beside whom he sat.
«I obey, my lord. - The knight's voice was very muffled because of the helmet, but in the silence it was perfectly audible.
Under the removed helmet I expected a lot of things, from an ugly ogre, with scars and sores on his face, to an old knight with gray in his hair. But not a boy, who looked no older than our stableman's son, who had recently turned fifteen. A similar shock was evident on both his mother's face and Ceri's.
- They said you were from the Cold family. - The father's face showed no emotion. He only cast a disgruntled glance at the crowd, quieting the murmurs that had started. - You are the second son of Alexander Cold?
«Yes, my lord. - His voice came out very strong and soft, involuntarily clawing at something inside me even as he made a slight bow toward his father and the king. - I am honored that you remember my father.
«Alexander is one of my best warriors, having been with me through the War of the Nine Kings and the Rebellion of the Rhines and Tarbeks. - My father's face bears one of his rare genuine smiles, the kind I've seen fewer of than fingers on my hands in my life. Unless they're turned toward my mother. - There are few rivals to Blood Rain in the Western Lands. How's he doing?
«Good, my lord. - The knight smiled softly, gripping his helmet more comfortably. Was it just me, or did he flinch for a second? No one interfered in this conversation. Everyone wanted to know where this monster who had defeated two royal guardsmen at once had come from, and they didn't want to incur the wrath of their father, Lord Utes Casterly and the Hand of the King. - Now he is raising horses so that in the future you, his majesty Aerys and your armies can gallop faster than the wind throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
«Good answer. - It was obvious his father liked the boy for talking to him so much. In past tournaments, Dad had only exchanged a few sentences with the winners and sent them back. - If he can raise a son like that, he can breed good horses. How old are you?
«Fourteen, my lord.
From the sounds of it, many choked on their wine at his answer. He was already over six and a half feet tall, and he could grow even bigger. It would be a real mountain in the future.
"But at fourteen years old, to defeat Barristan Selmy and Lieven Martell..." - Looking at him once more, a strange feeling began to stir in my chest. Something between admiration and envy.
«Such accomplishments at a young age were commendable. - If my father was surprised, he didn't give it away, only signaled to the cupbearers to serve more wine to the king, who began to twitch oddly. I had only known the king for a few days, and I already realized that now he might say something stupid. - What are your plans for your life? I can offer you a place in our household guard and the title of knight for your future service.
The gazes of many of the knights present immediately became envious, making me involuntarily stick out my chest. Our home guard consisted of the best knights of the Western Lands and was one of the strongest troops in all of the Seven Kingdoms. No fool would refuse such an honor.
«Thank you, My Lord. But I was planning to see the world by training at the Citadel first.
«Ha-ha-ha.
"Here comes the fool."
At this moment, many people choked up, including me. With such skills and physique to become a maester... Idiot.
«Interesting decision. If you change your mind, you'll always be welcome at Casterly Rock. - Apparently Father, as always, understood more than I did and drew his own conclusions. - You may go, Felix the Grey.
«Thank you, my lord. - Bowing, he said, pressing his hand to his heart. - And I congratulate you on the imminent addition to your family. - By the Seven Gods, at that moment, he turned and looked straight into my eyes, and then at my mother and Cersei, making them shiver. Even though we were in the alcove of the town hall, almost a hundred yards away. After that, the Gray Knight turned around and walked away from the ring.
"I hope we meet again someday," I thought, rising from my chair and following my mother and sister as they left the niche. I could still see those eyes blazing bright green fire. - "Interesting man."
***
I slumped into the tent, slumping onto the nearest bench without looking. My breath was still ragged, and my hands were shaking like they'd been drinking for a long time.
«Felix, that was amazing! - The screams of the brothers and the redhead were as deafening as a hand grenade exploding near his ear. Thank the Gods only one of them continued the chatter. - You defeated Ser Barristan the Brave and Prince Leaven the Death Lance! Why didn't you tell me you were such a strong knight?!? It was incredible! You'll be written into ballads and songs. The gray knight without fear. Khar. Why throw your gauntlets in my face?!
"It's the only way to make you shut up."
«I'll never go up against such monsters again. - I whispered, showing Joen, who was still rubbing his bruised face, to hand me my burden. Wine was a rarity in my stomach, so I had to drink my stress down with a cool mint concoction. - Red, you're a fool if you think that was easy. I was on a knife edge the whole fight. If Dare hadn't fallen for my bluff or reacted to my surprise attack, it would have been me, not him. And Prince Lieven. I was only able to win because he didn't pay attention to my axe, which I drove at him. He's much more experienced than I am, and if the fight had continued at the same pace he would have been the first to find a loophole in my defenses. If I face either of them one-on-one now, I'll probably lose.
«But it's still a good result. - What I liked about Joen was his almost endless optimism, in contrast to the two sullen brothers standing like guards at the entrance to the tent. Perhaps I should thank them later. Judging from the shouting outside, it was only because of their efforts that this tent was not yet full of people. - You got the glory of defeating two royal guards and a thousand gold dragons. That's a lot of money.
«I agree. - I said, leaning back on the pre-placed hide and relaxed. I didn't even have the energy to laugh at finally recognizing my father's nickname. "Blood Rain..." What had he done that gave him such an interesting name? There's an archery competition in a few hours. You should be fresh and rested. - I've always been amazed at that. With a golden dragon, you could hire a whole brothel for a night or not starve for a year. A lot of peasants have never seen a dragon, and now I got a quarter poodle of gold just for beating up a few men. It's a strange world.
«I agree, my friend. - Joen grinned, taking a sip from his burdock. It must be wine to be smiling like that. Jewelry apprentices are rarely allowed to drink it. They need strong and steady hands, not to be matched by alcohol.
The rest of the day was much calmer. Of course, there were shouts of surprise when I was seen in the ranks of archers, and real cries of disbelief when my arrows hit all the thrown targets exactly in the center. But the extra five hundred gold easily reconciled me to my slightly damaged hearing.
The remaining two days passed at a similar pace. I didn't win in the races and axe throwing - the lean Dornish horses and the skillful natives of the Iron Islands were too fast. But the second and third places in these competitions were also satisfactory.
The visitors these days were not to be counted. Most of them were prostitutes, charlatans, and robbers who wanted to help the "silly boy" spend his money properly. More decent people came, too. A few lords and merchants, with a face like they were doing me a huge favor, offered to be their soldier and were sent away. There was even a boy who asked to be a squire, but quickly ran away when he found out I wasn't a knight. Rumor has it that Leaven Martell himself even wanted to visit me, but couldn't get away from the king because of the concussion I gave Ser Barristan. I overdid it then.
The day the tournament ended, I became the owner of an empty chest filled with 1600-twenty rounds of the noblest metal. So as not to tempt men of not the noblest profession, the money was at once taken to a branch of the Iron Bank and added to my old deposit. Tybalt, when he saw the chest, was as happy as a cat that had eaten sour cream. For such a good investment, he would surely be given a way into the main branch or the position of the head of all branches in the Western Lands. It all depends on his choice and possible benefits.
I kept a minimum amount of money with me - 5 gold coins and 800 silver coins. In case of need, the money could always be withdrawn in Staromest, where the main branch of the Iron Bank in Westeros was located, using the special token given to me, with a drawing in the form of a key - the symbol of the depositors of the Iron Bank.
Soon I and three of my new friends, having bought two carts and mares for them, left Lannisport, heading south to the Expanse. Where in a month's time, according to Tybalt and a few passing traders, the birthday party of Highgarden's heir, Mace Tyrell, would be held.
***
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