Violet Canyon, Pasture Area.
The pasture area of Violet Canyon was nestled in a winding valley, where lush grass rippled like green waves in the breeze.
Members of the Stone Goat Clan, now employed by Arthur, were herding flocks of sheep and cattle, their rough shouts echoing off the canyon walls.
In the distance, horse handlers were training sleek-coated sand steeds. Harvested grass was stacked into neat haystacks, ready to be transported to Star Station for fodder.
A white sept, built under the supervision of Septon Alester, stood in the center of the pasture. Sunlight filtered through its stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone walls.
Around the sept, a bustling settlement of over a thousand people had formed. Smoke curled from thatched roofs.
Wildlings who had converted to the Faith of the Seven, dressed in new roughspun clothes, were trading goods with settlers from Starfall. Children chased each other on the dirt paths.
At this moment, a hawking party flying various banners stopped outside the settlement to rest.
Ser Bard reined in his horse and raised a hand to halt the column.
He removed his helm, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and shouted to the nobles behind him, "We rest here for a quarter of an hour, then continue!"
The nobles from the Reach dismounted to stretch their legs.
Several young ladies in elegant riding habits gathered together, looking around excitedly.
"The Red Mountains aren't nearly as dangerous as the rumors say," a girl wearing a pearl hairnet lifted her veil and pointed at the distant peaks.
"Aside from the mountains and the heat, the scenery here is almost as beautiful as the Reach."
"Alys, do you remember?" another girl with golden braids giggled.
"The septas always used the wildlings of the Red Mountains to scare us, saying if we were naughty, the wildlings would snatch us away.
But the wildlings we just met pray to the Seven just like us!
They look no different from common folk!"
"Look at the wheat fields and orchards over there," a third girl stood on tiptoe to see.
"But you don't see herds of cattle and horses this large in the Reach."
"The most surprising thing is that sept," the first girl added. "It has glass windows from Myr! Such expensive decoration is rare even in the Reach."
Listening to the girls chatter, Edric sat silently on his horse, unconsciously rubbing the reins.
These young ladies from the Reach were cousins and companions of Lady Margaery, who was riding ahead with his aunt Allyria.
According to the girl named Alys Tyrell, who had introduced them with a double meaning, they were "roses on lower branches."
But in Edric's eyes, they were just as boring as Lord Red-Haired Egghead's daughter, Desmera.
They had no interest in spears or swordsmanship, and they screamed if a horse ran slightly faster than a trot.
"Edric, you..."
Alys was about to speak to him when she was interrupted by a piercing eagle cry.
Edric looked up sharply, his face lighting up with excitement.
Sharpwing swooped down from low altitude, his massive wings spread wide, sharp talons firmly gripping a struggling stag.
The knights around them immediately moved to calm the startled horses.
Ser Bard rode over, his armor glinting in the sun.
"Edric," he frowned.
"Send Sharpwing back to the cage. Don't cause any more commotion until we reach the hunting grounds."
Edric nodded reluctantly. He took out the bone whistle hanging around his neck and blew it.
Sharpwing circled once in the air and landed steadily on the eagle cage atop the accompanying wagon, beginning to tear into his prey.
Blood dripped from the edge of the wagon, scaring the ladies pale. They backed away hurriedly.
Edric glanced at the "low-branch roses" hiding behind their guards, looking at Sharpwing with fear. He couldn't help but miss Elia and the Sand Snakes.
If it were them, they would be crowding around excitedly, vying to touch Sharpwing's feathers.
But at least his ears were finally at peace.
"Is that the eagle raised by the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Snow?"
A deep female voice came from behind him.
Edric turned and was surprised to see a woman almost as tall and burly as his cousin Arthur—he had nearly mistaken her for a large knight.
Her face was broad and coarse, covered in freckles. Her nose had clearly been broken more than once. Her thick lips looked like two caterpillars, and her straw-colored hair was dry and brittle.
But her blue eyes were exceptionally clear, innocent, and direct.
Although she was far less beautiful than the noble ladies—the "low-branch roses"—Edric had no doubt that in a fight, she could easily take down a dozen "roses."
"I am Brienne of Tarth," the woman introduced herself politely.
Edric pointed at Sharpwing, who was feasting. "Lady Brienne, aren't you afraid of him?"
"Knights swear to protect the innocent." Brienne gazed calmly at the giant eagle.
"The Sword of the Morning has always been the finest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. I trust Ser Arthur would not let an untamed beast harm people."
Edric's eyes lit up. This woman had far more sense than those chattering girls.
He noticed the scar on Brienne's nose. "My lady, your swordsmanship must be excellent. Are you here to participate in the tourney?"
"No." Brienne looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I came with my father to handle other matters."
On the way to the hunting grounds in the Red Mountains, Edric and Brienne chatted happily.
He excitedly recounted how his cousin Arthur, as a mystery knight, had defeated Prince Oberyn twice at the Sunspear tourney and defended his champion's seat with twenty consecutive victories.
Getting carried away, he gestured wildly to describe the thrilling scenes.
"You are so tall, you should enter the Starfall Tourney as a mystery knight!" Edric suggested eagerly.
"Just like Obara Sand, whom I mentioned earlier. She competed as a woman and defeated many strong opponents to hold a champion's seat."
Brienne was clearly tempted but hesitated. "But I didn't bring armor or equipment..."
"Leave it to me!" Edric thumped his chest. "Weapons, armor, squires, even the registration—I'll handle it all!"
About half an hour later, the hawking party arrived at the hunting grounds in the Red Mountains.
The terrain rose sharply here. Steep cliffs covered in dense forest provided ideal habitats for all kinds of game birds.
A newly built hunting tower stood halfway up the mountain, allowing sentries to overlook the entire hunting ground.
Stone steps wound down from the tower to a row of log cabins at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by kennels, mews, and stables.
Thrummm—
Ser Bard blew the horn, and the nobles released their carefully trained falcons.
Edric waited until everyone else's birds had flown far before blowing his bone whistle.
Sharpwing spread his massive wings, rising like a dark cloud, and quickly disappeared into the red peaks.
"What were you talking about just now?"
Once Sharpwing was gone, the "low-branch roses" surrounded him again. Alys blinked curiously.
"You looked very happy."
"Swordsmanship, lances, knightly honor, and war," Edric said, deliberately choosing topics they wouldn't like. "You wouldn't understand."
"I understand war!"
Alys looked blank for a moment, then her eyes shone with an innocent, excited light.
"I will give my favor to my champion. The septa says a favor makes a knight brave and fearless on the battlefield!
He will shout my name as he charges and kills the enemy. Isn't that amazing?"
"I want a champion to wear my favor too," Megga chimed in. "And kill a hundred enemies!"
Janna clasped her hands together, looking dreamy. "And then the singers will write songs of victory, like 'The Hammer and the Anvil,' to be sung for ages!"
Edric facepalmed. These girls were laughably childish.
Just as he was wishing for Sharpwing to return quickly, Brienne's deep voice sounded in his ear.
"On the battlefield, a moment is a lifetime."
"The master-at-arms who taught me said he had a friend in his youth. Strong, agile, a hero in the practice yard. Everyone thought he would become a great knight."
Brienne's gaze grew distant.
"But in a battle in the Stepstones, after he knocked his opponent to the ground and the man lost his axe, he hesitated for a split second."
"In that split second, the man pulled a dagger and stabbed it into the gap in his armor."
She turned to Edric. "All strength, speed, skill... in that moment, they were worth nothing. Everything was lost because he flinched when he should have struck."