Lyonel POV
Lyonel rode Thunder at a slow pace along the road.
The weather was pleasant, neither too hot nor too cold, and a gentle breeze drifted across the fields surrounding the road.
There was peace.
No monsters.
No witches.
No bandits.
Just travellers going about their lives.
Merchants rode wagons loaded with goods.
Farmers guided oxen pulling carts full of grain.
A few hedge knights passed him, travelling in the opposite direction.
One gave him a respectful nod after noticing the quality of his armour.
Lyonel returned it.
Cloud soared high above the road.
The great white bird circled lazily through the sky, occasionally letting out a loud caw that caused travellers to look upward in surprise.
Lyonel smiled.
The bird seemed happy.
Then again, Cloud was usually happy.
Unless someone tried to kill them.
His hand rested upon Adder's Fang hanging from his waist.
Even now, he still found himself glancing at the sword every now and then.
A Valyrian steel sword.
His sword.
The thought still felt unreal.
His gaze drifted downward toward his armour.
The breastplate gleamed brightly beneath the afternoon sun.
Gerald had done excellent work replacing the damaged pieces.
Though the old armourer had been right.
The armour didn't fit perfectly.
The breastplate felt a little tight around the chest and shoulders.
The pauldrons sat slightly differently than the old ones.
Still.
It was good armour.
Far better than riding half-naked.
Lyonel's thoughts wandered.
King's Landing was getting closer every day.
He wondered what King Jaehaerys would say when he learned what had happened.
Would he be angry?
Would he be pleased?
Lyonel honestly had no idea.
He had fulfilled his mission.
Mostly.
A voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
"Food."
The voice was weak.
"Please."
Lyonel turned his head.
"Food for my son."
On the side of the road sat a woman dressed in ragged clothes.
Her brown dress was stained with dirt and mud.
Beside her sat a young boy.
The child looked no older than five.
The sight immediately made Lyonel frown.
The boy looked painfully thin.
His cheeks were hollow.
His clothing hung loosely from his body.
Starving.
The realization hit him immediately.
Travellers passed them by without a second glance.
Some ignored them.
Others looked away.
A few even sneered.
Lyonel felt his stomach twist.
He reached for his coin purse.
If he had a few coppers, he could—
His fingers found nothing.
He froze.
Then checked again.
Nothing.
Lyonel closed his eyes.
"Fuck."
He didn't have a coin purse.
Between travel expenses and everything that had happened recently, he had lost it.
No gold.
No silver.
Nothing.
For a moment, he simply sat there.
The woman looked at him hopefully.
The child barely seemed aware of his surroundings.
Lyonel looked away.
A knight should help.
That was what he had been taught his entire life.
Protect the weak.
Defend the innocent.
Serve the realm.
Yet what good was a knight with empty pockets?
After a moment, he guided Thunder off the road.
The horse approached the woman slowly.
Lyonel dismounted.
"Good day."
The woman looked up.
The moment she saw his armour, her eyes widened.
Shock.
Hope.
Disbelief.
People often looked at knights that way.
As if they were heroes from songs.
Lyonel wished more people knew how wrong those songs usually were.
"Please," she whispered.
"My son."
She pulled the boy closer.
"He needs food."
Lyonel knelt slightly.
"I don't have any food with me."
The hope in her eyes faded immediately.
"But," Lyonel continued, "I am heading to King's Landing."
The woman listened.
"If you come with me, I can help you there."
"The city is large."
"There are septs."
"Charities."
"People who can help."
The woman stared at him.
For a moment, he thought she might agree.
Instead, she recoiled.
"NO."
The response caught him completely off guard.
The boy beside her flinched.
"Leave me."
Lyonel blinked.
"What?"
"If you have no food, you're useless."
The words stung more than he expected.
Not because they were cruel.
Because she believed them.
She wasn't angry.
She was desperate.
Lyonel looked at the child.
The boy could barely keep his eyes open.
"Please."
Lyonel tried again.
"Your son needs help."
The woman grabbed the child protectively.
"No."
Lyonel stepped forward carefully.
"I am trying to help—"
The woman suddenly pulled out a small knife.
She slashed wildly toward him.
Lyonel jumped backward.
The blade missed him completely.
Before he could react, the woman grabbed her son and stumbled away.
The child nearly collapsed twice as they fled.
Lyonel watched them disappear into a nearby field.
His shoulders slumped.
There was nothing he could do.
A bitter laugh suddenly reached his ears.
"Hahahaha!"
Lyonel turned.
A beggar sat beneath a nearby tree.
The man looked filthy.
His beard was tangled.
His clothes were little more than rags.
The beggar shook his head.
"You dumb cunt."
Lyonel narrowed his eyes.
The man continued laughing.
"You thought you could help her."
Lyonel ignored him.
He walked back toward Thunder.
The beggar wasn't finished.
"They never trust knights."
"Not poor folk."
"They think you'll sell them."
"Or worse."
Lyonel paused.
A part of him hated that those words might be true.
Too many knights had earned the hatred of the smallfolk.
Too many had abused the power given to them.
He mounted Thunder.
The beggar immediately brightened.
"Since she didn't want to go..."
He pointed at himself.
"Take me."
Lyonel raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Take me to King's Landing."
The beggar grinned.
"You seem helpful."
Lyonel looked the man up and down.
The woman had a starving child.
The beggar was a healthy, grown man.
Dirty.
Lazy looking.
But healthy.
"Look at you."
The beggar frowned.
"What?"
"You're a grown man."
The beggar's smile vanished.
Lyonel pointed down the road.
"There are farms everywhere."
"Inns."
Stables."
"Villages."
"You can work."
The beggar spat onto the ground.
"Easy for a knight to say."
Lyonel shrugged.
"Maybe."
Then he smiled slightly.
"But I'm not the one sitting beneath a tree begging."
The beggar cursed at him.
Lyonel ignored it.
He nudged Thunder forward.
The stallion began moving down the road.
The beggar's insults followed him for some distance.
Lyonel didn't bother listening.
After a while, even those faded away.
Only the sounds of the road remained.
Cloud swooped down from the sky and landed on Thunder's head.
The great bird looked at him curiously.
Almost as if asking what was wrong.
Lyonel reached back and scratched beneath Cloud's beak.
"You know, Cloud."
The bird chirped.
"I thought being a knight would be simpler."
Cloud tilted his head.
Lyonel laughed softly.
"Fight bandits."
"Save maidens."
"Serve the realm."
The bird chirped again.
Lyonel looked down the endless kingsroad stretching before him.
Instead, he had learned a difficult truth.
Sometimes helping people was easy.
Sometimes it wasn't.
And sometimes the people you wanted to save didn't want saving at all.
Thunder continued forward.
Cloud took to the sky once more.
And Lyonel rode on toward King's Landing.
Lyonel kept riding until the road finally curved around a hill.
Then he saw it.
King's Landing.
His eyes widened.
Even from a distance, the city seemed enormous.
Massive stone walls stretched across the landscape, surrounding countless buildings packed tightly together. Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys into the sky. Ships filled the waters of Blackwater Bay, their masts looking like a forest of wooden spears.
But what truly caught his attention was what stood above everything else.
The Red Keep.
The great castle dominated the city skyline.
Its towers seemed to scrape the heavens themselves.
Lyonel couldn't help but smile.
"So that's King's Landing."
The capital of the Seven Kingdoms.
The seat of House Targaryen.
The city founded by Aegon the Conqueror.
He had heard stories about it his entire life.
Yet none of those stories had prepared him for seeing it with his own eyes.
Cloud let out a happy chirp from above.
The great white bird swooped through the air before landing upon Thunder's head.
Thunder snorted in annoyance.
Cloud ignored him completely.
Lyonel laughed.
"You make a fine bed, Thunder."
The black stallion snorted again.
Lyonel continued down the road toward the city.
The closer he got, the more crowded the road became.
Merchants guided heavily loaded carts.
Pilgrims walked toward the city gates.
Farmers brought livestock to market.
Nobles rode beneath colourful banners.
The smell of the city reached him long before the walls did.
Smoke.
Fish.
Horse manure.
Cooked food.
Sweat.
Thousands upon thousands of people lived within those walls.
Eventually, Lyonel reached the city gates.
And then he stopped.
A long line stretched before him.
Hundreds of people waited to enter.
Lyonel sighed.
"Fuck me."
Cloud settled comfortably atop Thunder's head.
Clearly, the bird intended to wait.
So Lyonel waited too.
Time passed slowly.
The city guards inspected everyone entering.
Some carts were searched.
Questions were asked.
Names were recorded.
Nobody entered without inspection.
Lyonel shifted in his saddle.
Cloud puffed out his feathers and rested.
A small voice suddenly interrupted the boredom.
"What is that?"
Lyonel turned.
A young boy stared at Cloud with wide eyes.
The child couldn't have been older than six.
His mouth hung open in amazement.
Cloud looked back at him.
The bird tilted his head.
The boy gasped.
Lyonel chuckled.
"My bird."
The boy nodded rapidly.
"It's huge!"
His father immediately grabbed his shoulder.
"Quiet!"
The man lowered his head toward Lyonel.
"Forgive him, ser."
"He means no disrespect."
Lyonel waved a hand dismissively.
"It's fine."
The father looked uncertain.
Lyonel smiled.
"Let the boy be curious."
The child grinned.
Cloud chirped.
The father relaxed slightly.
"Thank you, ser."
Lyonel simply nodded.
The line continued moving.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
After what felt like an eternity, Lyonel finally reached the front.
One of the city guards stepped forward.
"What is your name?"
"Ser Lyonel Dondarrion."
The guard nodded.
"A knight, eh?"
Before he could continue, another guard nearby suddenly looked over.
"Did you say Ser Lyonel Dondarrion?"
Lyonel blinked.
"I did."
The second guard immediately walked over.
"Benevar."
He glanced at the first guard.
"Let him through."
Benevar looked confused.
"What?"
"Let him through."
Lyonel watched both men curiously.
Eventually, Benevar shrugged.
"Fine."
The gate opened.
As Lyonel started forward, the second guard approached him quietly.
The man's expression had suddenly become serious.
Very serious.
Without anyone noticing, he pressed something into Lyonel's hand.
"Do not react."
Lyonel froze.
The guard slipped a folded parchment into his hand.
Then a ring.
"The King awaits."
Lyonel's eyes widened.
The guard continued speaking softly.
"Go to a place called The Hard Rod."
He nodded toward the parchment.
"The map will guide you."
Lyonel glanced down briefly.
The guard lowered his voice even further.
"Tell no one."
"This comes directly from His Grace."
Lyonel swallowed.
"Understood."
The guard nodded.
Then immediately stepped away as though nothing had happened.
Lyonel rode into King's Landing.
His heart was suddenly beating much faster.
The King awaits.
The words echoed inside his mind.
He looked down at the ring.
Silver.
Beautifully crafted.
Upon its face was engraved the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen.
A royal seal.
Proof.
This was no joke.
Lyonel clenched the ring tightly.
Then unfolded the map.
A large blue mark indicated a location inside the city.
The Hard Rod.
"What kind of name is that?"
Thunder snorted.
Lyonel patted his neck.
"Slowly, boy."
The stallion obeyed.
As they entered deeper into the city, Lyonel found himself staring everywhere at once.
King's Landing was unlike any place he had ever seen.
The streets were crowded beyond belief.
People filled every corner.
Street vendors shouted loudly.
Fishmongers advertised their catches.
Children ran through alleyways.
Beggars sat along the roads.
Blacksmiths hammered steel.
Priests preached.
Merchants argued.
The city felt alive.
And loud.
Very loud.
Many people glanced at Lyonel.
Some looked impressed by his armour.
Others looked suspicious.
More than a few noticed Cloud.
The gigantic white bird resting atop Thunder's head attracted attention wherever they went.
One woman actually prayed upon seeing him.
Eventually, Lyonel found himself entering a silenter district.
Then he saw it.
A large wooden sign hung above a building.
THE HARD ROD.
The words were painted in bold black letters.
Beneath them was an enormous iron cock dangling from the sign.
Lyonel stared.
Then stared some more.
"..."
He rubbed his eyes.
The iron cock was still there.
"By the Seven."
Now he understood the name.
Thunder seemed amused.
Cloud let out a chirp that suspiciously sounded like laughter.
Lyonel shook his head.
"The King sends me to a place called The Hard Rod, that has a hard rod."
He looked toward the heavens.
"Is this a test?"
No answer came.
With a sigh, Lyonel dismounted.
He tied Thunder securely outside.
Cloud remained atop the horse.
Lyonel pointed a finger at both of them.
"Behave."
Thunder snorted.
Cloud chirped innocently.
Lyonel trusted neither of them.
Taking a deep breath, he adjusted Adder's Fang at his waist.
Then he pushed open the door and entered The Hard Rod.
The moment Lyonel stepped through the door, he regretted it.
A foul smell struck him immediately.
Sweat.
Ale.
Smoke.
And several other scents he would rather not identify.
The place was loud.
Very loud.
Men laughed.
Tankards slammed against wooden tables.
People shouted over one another.
Music played somewhere in the background, though it was difficult to hear over the noise.
Lyonel frowned.
By the Seven, what kind of place had the King sent him to?
He stood near the entrance for a moment, taking everything in.
The common room was crowded.
Some people sat drinking.
Others gambled with dice and cards.
Groups gathered around tables, telling stories and laughing loudly.
Serving girls moved between the crowds carrying food and drink.
Nobody seemed to pay him much attention.
Lyonel was grateful for that.
His hand remained on the hilt of Adder's Fang.
The Valyrian steel blade rested comfortably at his side.
The sword always gave him a sense of security.
Especially in places like this.
A place where trouble felt only moments away.
Before he could decide what to do next, a hand touched his shoulder.
Lyonel nearly jumped.
His hand tightened around the sword.
A woman's voice whispered softly beside his ear.
"Follow me."
The hand left his shoulder.
Lyonel turned.
A woman stood behind him.
She wore black robes that concealed nearly everything.
A dark mask hid her face.
Only her eyes were visible.
Before Lyonel could ask any questions, she turned and walked away.
Lyonel hesitated.
The King's ring rested in his left hand.
Whoever this woman was, she clearly knew he had arrived.
After a moment, he followed.
The woman moved confidently through the crowded building.
She never once looked back.
Lyonel stayed close behind.
As they walked, he noticed something strange.
The deeper they went into the building, the quieter it became.
The noise of the common room slowly faded.
The laughter disappeared.
The music vanished.
Soon they reached a narrow hallway.
Torches burned upon the walls.
Their flames cast long shadows across the stone floor.
The hallway felt entirely different from the room behind them.
Colder.
More private.
More dangerous.
Lyonel's instincts immediately became wary.
At the far end stood a single wooden door reinforced with iron bands.
The woman finally stopped.
She turned toward him.
Her masked face revealed nothing.
"Give me the ring."
Lyonel stared at her.
"What?"
"The ring and the map."
Her voice remained calm.
Emotionless.
For a brief moment, Lyonel considered refusing.
Then he remembered the city guard.
The King's orders.
Slowly, he reached out his left hand.
He showed the silver ring bearing the three-headed dragon and the map.
The woman examined both carefully.
Several long moments passed.
Lyonel could hear his own heartbeat.
Finally, she nodded.
"The ring is genuine."
She handed it back.
The map she kept.
Lyonel frowned.
"What happens now?"
The woman pointed toward the door.
"You wait."
"For who?"
"The King."
Lyonel blinked.
"The King?"
She nodded.
"His Grace will arrive when he chooses."
The answer somehow raised even more questions.
Before Lyonel could ask any of them, the woman turned and began walking away.
"Wait."
She paused.
Lyonel looked at her masked face.
"Who are you?"
The woman stood silently for several moments.
Then she continued walking.
No answer came.
Within moments, she disappeared around a corner.
Leaving Lyonel completely alone.
"Helpful."
He muttered the word beneath his breath.
The hallway suddenly felt very empty.
Lyonel looked toward the door.
His stomach tightened.
King Jaehaerys.
He had spoken to the king before.
Only briefly.
But this felt different.
The King had secretly summoned him.
Not to the Red Keep.
Not to court.
To a hidden room beneath a tavern called The Hard Rod.
Nothing about this felt normal.
Lyonel approached the door.
His boots echoed softly against the stone floor.
He placed a hand upon the handle.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then he pushed.
The door opened.
The room beyond was small.
Simple.
Dark.
Only a few torches provided light.
A wooden table occupied the center.
Two chairs stood opposite one another.
Nothing else.
No decorations.
No windows.
No signs of luxury.
Just a room.
A room built for private conversations.
The sort of room where secrets were spoken.
And sometimes buried.
Lyonel stepped inside.
The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
He immediately turned around.
The door had no handle on the inside.
"Wonderful."
Lyonel walked to the table.
Then slowly sat down.
The chair creaked beneath his weight.
Adder's Fang rested against the side of the table.
The silver ring remained clenched within his hand.
Now there was nothing to do but wait.
So Lyonel waited.
And wondered why the King of the Seven Kingdoms wanted to meet a simple knight in secret.