Seventh Moon of 269
Pyke - Pyke - Great Hall
The Hour of the Throne (12 P.M.)
The hall, which two days earlier had been the site of a bloody battle filled with screams of violence and pain, was now full of smiling, drunken men celebrating their victory over their enemies. The hall, once furnished with ballistae, now had several rows of wide tables surrounded by chairs. And, seated at the tables, men drank and made merry.
And far from the tables, watching the scene with a proud smile while sitting in the Seastone Chair, was Aerys Targaryen, who had three members of the Kingsguard around him. The odd number of guards reminded anyone who looked in their direction of the grim fate of the one missing there among his sworn brothers. But that pride did not come from any sense of satisfaction with the achievement of his men, or anything like that, but rather from being able to claim that he was the first man to conquer Pyke in the written history of Westeros.
Between the tables spread across the hall and the throne on which Aerys sat, upon a raised platform higher than those of the tables but lower than that of the throne, there was a table turned toward the others, allowing those seated there to also observe the hall. Seated at that table were Tywin Lannister, who kept a closed expression while staring at his plate as if there were something interesting there; Steffon Baratheon, who carried a light aura, drank, and made toasts; Quellon Greyjoy, who looked at the Targaryen tapestries decorating the walls with melancholic eyes; Eldon Estermont, goodbrother to Steffon, who drowned himself in wine to suppress the pain of his wounds and of having lost his right eye; Armond Connington, who traded laughs with Steffon and tried to cheer up Eldon; and Gilbert Farman, who had his right arm in a sling but still poured liters of wine down with his left while exchanging words with Corwyn Velaryon, seated beside him, who bore a deep cut on his left cheek that had nearly taken his left eye, just as Eldon had lost his right.
But the difference between that wound and those of the other men at the high table was that it had not been caused during the conquest of Pyke, since he had not taken part in it, but during the reorganization of the ships around Pyke—a task given to him by Aerys, and one that had nearly cost him his life.
Outside the high table, but not far enough to be out of sight of Steffon, who kept casting several glances toward it, at a table filled with Lannister men, sat Alaric beside Andrey, who drank and cracked jokes to the men around him as if he were in a tavern, letting out jokes that, if repeated by comedians from Alaric's old world, would have ruined their careers.
On the other side of the table, Lyonel stared at him as if he were a clown.
"We are not among your people, Blackmont. Such vulgar behavior is wholly inappropriate, especially this close to the high table," Lyonel commented, with his eyebrows nearly touching.
Hearing Lyonel's words, the laughter of the men near them at the table died, and they began to look at Lyonel and Andrey. Turning to Lyonel, Andrey replied with a smile that made clear what he thought of his words, but still addressed him.
"It is Ser Andrey, Ser Lyonel. I thought we had already settled that matter. And as for my... vulgar behavior," he looked toward the high table where Steffon was standing for another toast, "I doubt our lords paramount would care much about it, considering their own."
That was right. Andrey had already revealed that he was, in truth, a Dornish noble and had begun his plan to forge himself into a knight. That had happened after the Great Keep of Pyke had been cleared and Steffon approached Andrey, Alaric, and Lyonel to congratulate them.
"You are in no position to judge them... Ser," Lyonel retorted, saying his title in a cynical tone.
A reaction Alaric had warned his words would bring. With a frustrated sigh, Andrey set his cup on the table and answered Lyonel in a tired manner.
"By the Seven! This is a feast! Why all this puritanism? We nearly died on multiple occasions, just as we may die in the next ones. What is the problem with easing the tension while we can?" Placing a hand on Alaric's shoulder, Andrey asked one final question. "Do you not agree with me, Bear Cub?"
Yes. Alaric's secret identity had also been revealed, but not by his own choice. While Andrey lied, he revealed Alaric's secret and made up that both of them had entered the war with the purpose of proving themselves to their families and that, by irony or by the mysterious plans of the old gods and the new, they had been gathered on the same field and ship.
Alaric, being the target of the judging looks of Steffon and Lyonel and knowing that the truth of his identity would be revealed at some point after the war, probably when they returned to Lannisport, decided not to lie to the face of the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and confirmed Andrey's words. To his surprise, the first thing Steffon said was not words of reprimand but recognition. Steffon said that he remembered Lord Rickard mentioning that a boy, the son of a northern noble, had hidden himself on the ships and come to Lannisport without their knowledge, and that he would need to have his eyes searched for him in the camps.
Having said that, that was when the reprimands came. But yeah. His identity was already done for.
Still irritated with Andrey, Alaric removed his hand from his shoulder and returned to thinking about the war.
"A knight, if you truly are one, must always behave as one—something I have never seen you do," Lyonel continued his reprimand. "This northern boy has better manners than you."
Alaric said nothing, even though he had been mentioned and despite the implication that he, being from the North, would have fewer manners. Crying over xenophobic notions in a place like Westeros would be stupid, especially when those notions were grounded in reality.
"We do things differently in Dorne. Everyone knows that," Andrey said, leaning back against his chair and looking at Lyonel with a smile that challenged his words.
Lyonel did not respond because the Dornish, having spent more than a hundred years apart from the rest of Westeros, were indeed different from the rest. The same could be said of the North.
Seeing Lyonel's lack of words, Andrey took up his cup again, raised it, and shouted, "To those we lost!" while looking Lyonel in the eyes, receiving several cries repeating the same. He was about to drink the wine in that cup when the sound of a trumpet rang out, silencing everyone in the hall and making them turn toward the direction from which it had come: the Seastone Chair.
At the foot of the Seastone Chair stood the man responsible for sounding the trumpet, who, after finishing, turned to Aerys seated in the chair and to Tywin beside it, bowed, and withdrew. Having taken the attention of everyone in the hall, Tywin was the first to speak.
"King Aerys Targaryen, second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, has words to say!"
At Tywin's cue, acting as his announcer, Aerys adjusted himself in the Seastone Chair and spoke with a smile.
"Are you enjoying the wine and the food?" he asked, earning celebratory shouts from the crowd. "Good, good... Remember how you cried and said you would steal the ships to leave when we arrived here? That is quite the change, is it not?" he continued, still smiling.
This time, no celebratory shouts were heard, only an uncomfortable silence. Tywin, standing beside him, bent down and said something in his ear, receiving only a grunt and a wave of the hand in response before Aerys continued his reprimand to the crowd.
"I hope that does not happen again when we dock at Old Wyk; because, yes, we will continue this war," he announced with an even deeper smile, generating small murmurs. "I will not stop until the Iron Islands are cleansed of both the rebels and of those monsters, and the worshippers of the drowned demon who brought them to my kingdom. And may promises of riches not be necessary again to force you to fulfill your duty to your king."
After finishing, Aerys leaned back in the Seastone Chair, watching the crowd's reaction with narrowed eyes. Aerys's words completely destroyed the mood of the feast, which was something very necessary, not only to ease the tension of the battle just won, but also to forget what had been discovered after interrogating the residents and soldiers of Pyke.
Apparently, after the crown's letter ordering the surrender of the Iron Islands had reached its destination, the lords under the command of the high priest of the Drowned Faith—who apparently had a great connection with the Drowned God—gathered a large part of the people, warriors or not, and sailed to Old Wyk, leaving only a few behind for protection in case they did not return in time. But they never returned, which explained the low number of people in Pyke, as well as the empty villages they had passed until reaching the castle.
The problem? No one there was stupid. Both the ironborn and the continental forces had made the connection between those who did not return and the monsters that appeared, making all kinds of theories arise, with the most popular being that they were one and the same—that the Drowned God was entirely real and that they had transformed their followers into monsters. A theory that was not merely a theory for Alaric, who could see the race described as "Transformed Deep Ones."
"And there goes the good morale," Andrey commented out loud, earning a dirty look from Lyonel. Leaning toward Alaric, Andrey whispered, "Hopefully, the already reduced Kingsguard take good care of him; otherwise, a stray arrow may end up finding him."
Analyzing only the posture of those at his table through his Insight, Alaric could not disagree. Clenched fists, the discreet and silent glances exchanged, whispered words, and glances toward Aerys—Alaric would not have been surprised if some of them decided to do something before the end of the day or the beginning of the next dawn when everyone was asleep. The question was whether that something would be deserting back to Westeros or committing regicide.
But once again, the king's old friends moved to help him, even if it was neither requested nor appreciated.
"The words of the king are law, and as loyal vassals, we must act according to them because, without them, we would be no better than savages," Tywin reminded the grumbling crowd, passing his cold gaze over those who were still complaining. "But now is not the proper moment to fulfill them, but rather to celebrate yesterday's victory as well as to give the rewards to the brave. As I promised on the beaches of Pyke, the first ten to invade this castle upon which we stand will receive the title of knight and ten thousand gold dragons, and for those who are already knights, lands in the Westerlands. And, as a man of honor, I will fulfill my words as any civilized man should do…"
Tywin remained silent for a moment, letting the meaning of his words ring in the ears of those who might be harboring ill thoughts.
"Lord Steffon Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and Lord of Storm's End, come forth!" Tywin announced the name of his old friend, calling him forward.
Being called, Steffon set his mug full of wine on the table and stood up, moving toward the King's Hand. Presenting himself before Tywin, Steffon bowed, nearly falling forward from how drunk he was.
"Lord Hand," he said in a somewhat slurred voice.
"Lord Steffon Baratheon, being the one who commanded the army during the assault against Pyke, will be the one to call the ten men brave enough to risk drawing the attention of the ironborn to themselves," Tywin explained his role in a tone so formal it gave no hint that they were childhood friends.
"It is my honor, Lord Hand," Steffon replied, raising his head and resisting as much as he could not to fall backward.
Turning back toward the crowd, Steffon began the awarding ceremony in a very direct manner, not wishing to risk vomiting there in front of everyone.
"Arryk Waters!"
With the name called, everyone began turning their heads, searching for this Arryk. Eventually, they all fixed upon a man who stood up and began walking toward Steffon. He had long black hair that reached his shoulders, a slender figure, a thin face, and naturally half-closed eyes, giving him the air of someone constantly suspicious. When he arrived before Steffon, the physical difference between them was almost comical; Arryk looked like a poorly fed man beside the Lord of Storm's End.
"Lord Baratheon," Arryk said, bowing.
"Arryk Waters, son of Edwell Waters, born in the deepest slums of Flea Bottom," Steffon presented him, repeating the information previously given, something he did with all ten men. "You showed tremendous bravery when you passed through the gate of Pyke, holding only your bastard sword, dodging every bolt AND arrow using only your agility, and climbing the left wall to lead the attack against the enemy. For your bravery and deeds, I grant you the title of knight. Kneel."
Steffon spoke as seriously as his drunkenness allowed while drawing his sword. With Arryk kneeling before him, Steffon placed the blade on his shoulder and spoke the vows:
"In the name of the WARRIOR, I charge you to be BRAVE.
In the name of the FATHER, I charge you to be JUST.
In the name of the MOTHER, I charge you to DEFEND the young and innocent.
In the name of the MAID, I charge you to PROTECT all women.
In the name of the SMITH, I charge you to be STRONG.
In the name of the CRONE, I charge you to be WISE.
In the name of the STRANGER, I charge you to KEEP your vows till the end of your days.
Arise, Ser Arryk of the Deep."
With a round of applause, Arryk of the Deep rose as a new man.
After him, three more men were called and knighted, with Steffon giving a brief summary of who they were and what they had done. The fifth to be called was Lyonel, whom Steffon pointed out as brave for risking himself even though he was already a knight. He also said that Lyonel had been one of the three who initially climbed the wall to take the ironborn right flank, being willing to charge with only three men.
Since Lyonel was already a knight, Steffon said his reward was in Tywin's hands. Tywin declared that he would be granted lands north of Lannisport, around the rivers where a village already existed for him to rule.
After him, three more men were called until Andrey was finally summoned. With Andrey standing before him, Steffon said, to the surprise of many who were still ignorant, that Andrey was also a Blackmont—a Dornish noble from the Red Mountains who had hidden his identity and entered the war under another house's banner in order to prove his skill to the lord of his house, his older brother, who had already made him a knight.
His words shocked many men. And when the time came for Tywin to announce what lands he had earned, it was clear to Alaric that the Hand of the King was just as skeptical as Lyonel. Even so, he granted him a small piece of land along the Ocean Road.
With Andrey thanking him and returning to his seat, Alaric was finally called.
"Alaric Mormont!"
When he stood, many heads turned toward him, surprised to see a northern noble there. Approaching Steffon and bowing, the Lord of Storm's End began presenting him in a much more serious tone than the others.
"Alaric Mormont, son of Lord Jeor Mormont of Bear Island, twelve years of age, defied the will of his father and hid himself in the northern fleet without being detected during the eight-day journey to Lannisport, joined the war in the Lannister camp by lying about his age and passing the test given by Ser Lyonel Lannett, helped defeat several fish men during the voyage to Pyke, helped raise the siege ladders and clear the roof of the outer fortress, and, when found trapped inside it, threw himself from the second-floor window to reach the stone bridge and went on to become the first to pass through the gates of Pyke, becoming the first of the ten."
Steffon paused for a moment, as if that were everything, making the crowd murmur among themselves about the many deeds of a boy only twelve years of age, before continuing.
"He was the one who devised the plan to climb the wall to the next level, hide behind the pillar, and strike the archers unprepared. And when the ironborn attacked us with their ballistae, catching us by surprise, it was he who saved my life by pulling me away from the bolt. And, as if that were not enough, he accompanied me during the charge against the ballista, only to leave me behind and reach them before I could, killing them before I could even act."
The news that he had saved the life of the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands created even more fascination among the crowd.
"Kneel," Steffon said.
Kneeling, Steffon placed his sword upon Alaric's shoulder and began to recite the same vows he had spoken for the others that day.
"In the name of the WARRIOR, I charge you to be BRAVE.
In the name of the FATHER, I charge you to be JUST.
In the name of the MOTHER, I charge you to DEFEND the young and innocent.
In the name of the MAID, I charge you to PROTECT all women.
In the name of the SMITH, I charge you to be STRONG.
In the name of the CRONE, I charge you to be WISE.
In the name of the STRANGER, I charge you to KEEP your vows till the end of your days.
Arise, Ser Alaric the Dauntless."
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