The White Harbor Tourney lasted for five days.
It featured the joust, the melee (both team and free-for-all), and the archery contest.
Don Quixote emerged as the ultimate champion in both the archery contest and the free-for-all melee.
In the team melee, he led two members of the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company to victory, defeating five separate teams of knights sworn to various lords along the way.
This cemented Don Quixote's name and the reputation of the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company in the minds and cheers of the vast majority of White Harbor.
---
High up in the viewing stands.
Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor, sat in a massive stone chair, his immense frame taking up nearly the entire seat.
He wore a velvet robe of deep teal.
The robe was heavily embroidered with merman sigils in gold thread.
A heavy gold chain hung around his waist, laden with numerous keys.
Those were likely the keys to the various warehouses, keeps, and vaults of White Harbor.
His fingers were as fat as sausages, and the flesh on his cheeks and chin sagged down into multiple thick folds.
Pressed between those fleshy cheeks, his pale blue eyes appeared unusually small.
His breathing was slow and labored, as if every inhalation required a massive effort.
This lord, well past his sixtieth year and so morbidly obese that he could no longer ride a horse into battle—often called the "Lord Too Fat to Sit a Horse" behind his back—spoke in a soft, rumbling voice:
"Marlon, Wylis, Maester Theomore, what do you make of this Ser Don Quixote?"
Ser Marlon thought for a moment before offering his assessment:
"He is an exceptional knight, both in skill and in courage.
"I would wager he is no weaker than any of the renowned knights across the Seven Kingdoms."
Ser Marlon had also competed in the tourney currently drawing to a close, though he had fallen to Don Quixote.
He had lost in the joust, the team melee, the archery contest, and the free-for-all melee.
But having crossed swords with Don Quixote directly, he possessed a much clearer understanding of the man's terrifying strength.
They simply weren't on the same level.
Wylis, as sparing with words as always, offered:
"Father, Ser Don Quixote is a good man. He knows his courtesies."
Maester Theomore, originally Theomore Lannister of House Lannister of Lannisport, was a plump, red-faced man with thin lips and curly golden hair.
His gaze had been fixed on the massive crowd of commoners around the lists, who had been roaring Don Quixote's name continuously.
Hearing Lord Wyman's question, he answered quickly:
"He is not one of those highborn knights with a famous name, yet the smallfolk seem to have already crowned him their hero!"
Lord Wyman watched the screaming smallfolk while simultaneously observing Don Quixote, who was currently chatting with the noble maidens and ladies. He pondered silently for a long time.
Finally, he spoke:
"I intend to take him as a sworn sword to House Manderly. I intend to grant him lands."
Hearing this, the men around Lord Wyman fell deathly silent.
It was incredibly rare for a man not born of noble blood to be granted a fief.
Because a fief was hereditary.
From that day forward, a landed knight could sleep in his own keep, eat bread from his own estates, and rule his own lands and smallfolk.
For a hedge knight, there was no greater honor than being granted lands.
Usually, it required exceptional favor from a lord.
Saving a lord's life or achieving massive glory on the battlefield were typically the only ways to earn such a reward.
Ser Marlon hesitated before speaking:
"My Lord, is such a reward not too great?"
Lord Wyman looked at Maester Theomore and said:
"Maester, tell them what the raven from the Citadel brought us. Tell them what the signs portend."
"The Citadel has written to inform us that the days are growing shorter. The summer is coming to an end!" Maester Theomore reported immediately.
Lord Wyman then spoke slowly:
"This summer has lasted seven years, and it will soon enter its eighth.
"It has been a long summer.
"And after a long summer comes an even longer winter!"
Lord Wyman's voice was heavy with concern as he continued:
"The winters in the North are not easily survived.
"Furthermore, while the North appears peaceful, House Bolton, the Three Sisters, and the Iron Islands are not forces that will quietly mind their own business.
"Peace breeds restlessness in men like that. What happened to House Cerwyn is a warning.
"And the South... the news I receive tells me the South is not as peaceful as it seems either. Chaos is brewing in many places. It may be small now, but it worries me deeply."
Lord Wyman paused, his gaze sweeping over Don Quixote once more before continuing:
"In the long winter to come, we will need men. Reliable men! Men capable of maintaining stability in the lands surrounding White Harbor!
"I have had my people looking into this Don Quixote over the past few days.
"The Bloody Hand Mercenary Company he founded hasn't been around long, but they have already earned the absolute trust of many merchants.
"They have both strength and honor. These are exactly the kind of men White Harbor needs!"
Saying this, he suddenly chuckled:
"Besides, a fief in the North is hardly anything compared to a fief in the South.
"There is plenty of land around White Harbor. Using this tourney as an excuse to grant a small piece of it hurts no one.
"Hmm, in that case, the champion's purse can be reduced slightly. A total of seven thousand Gold Dragons for the four events is still a bit too much."
Since Lord Wyman had laid out his reasoning so clearly, it was obvious his mind was made up.
Naturally, the others offered no further objections.
---
The horns blew once more, and the entire grounds fell silent.
Lord Wyman slowly rose from his seat in the high stands. His voice was surprisingly loud and clear:
"Ser Don Quixote!
"You have won the respect of every knight and commoner in this tourney.
"You have proven not only your martial skill but your courage and your spirit.
"As the champion of all four events, you shall be awarded five thousand Gold Dragons!"
Hearing this, the vast majority of the crowd, unaware of the situation, broke into confused murmurs.
The champion's purse for the joust was two thousand Gold Dragons.
The team melee was two thousand.
The archery contest was one thousand.
The free-for-all melee was two thousand.
White Harbor had heavily publicized these numbers well in advance.
Had Lord Wyman decided to cheap out after seeing Ser Don Quixote sweep all four events, unwilling to part with the full seven thousand?
Many people frowned at the thought.
But then, Lord Wyman's voice boomed out once more:
"Furthermore, I shall grant you lands.
"The village of Ash-hill, along with its surrounding lands and estates.
"It shall belong to you and your heirs forever.
"You shall become my bannerman, swear your sword to me, and fight in my name."
Hearing this, the entire crowd stood in stunned disbelief, thinking they had misheard.
But as reality set in, the viewing stands and the fields erupted in deafening cheers.
Don Quixote was equally stunned.
Lord Wyman stared down at him:
"I need a sworn sword, Ser Don Quixote. Will you swear your fealty to me?"
At this point, even if Don Quixote wanted to refuse, it would be incredibly difficult.
Rejecting the offer wouldn't just insult Wyman Manderly and his house; it would completely shatter the reputation and honor Don Quixote had meticulously built in White Harbor over the past few months.
Worse still, after such a public refusal, no other lord would ever consider taking him as a sworn sword again.
While Don Quixote didn't particularly care about the title of "sworn sword"...
A refusal could also mean he'd never find mercenary work again—at least not in the North.
If House Manderly decided to be vindictive, he might struggle to find employers even in the South.
His only option then would be to leave Westeros entirely and head for one of the other three continents in the world of Ice and Fire.
However, if he accepted the knighting, became a sworn sword to House Manderly, and a bannerman to Lord Wyman...
He would have his own smallfolk, his own keep, his own estates, and his own land.
More importantly, he would have the legal right to train a militia and build a private military force on his lands, without having to hide it.
The pros and cons weighed heavily in his mind.
Countless thoughts flashed through his head in a split second.
"I will, Lord Wyman," Don Quixote answered loudly:
"I shall pledge my eternal loyalty to you and your house, and I shall defend your lands and your honor."
He had gone from a wandering hedge knight to a landed knight with a sworn sword.
This was the dream old Valentine had chased his entire life, and the ultimate goal for almost every hedge knight in the realm.
Thinking of this, Don Quixote couldn't help but sigh internally.