"Jaime—why do you say that?"
Jaime glanced toward Ethan and answered:
"At midday meal today Lancel told me that he and Barth went to see that monster last night.
In that filthy little courtyard they heard the so-called 'Seris' warriors claim the beast was simply picked up in the forest—and warned them not to interfere."
King Robert crooked a finger.
A young page carrying a flagon hurried forward.
Robert asked Lancel:
"Did you hear those words with your own ears?"
Lancel lifted his head eyes blazing with open indignation.
"Yes Your Majesty—I heard it myself. Barth heard it too and several wandering knights were present. They can bear witness."
Robert waved a hand and turned to Ethan.
"Young man—Lancel is my squire and Jaime is my Kingsguard.
I can think of no reason to believe you over them.
Do you have anything to say?"
Ethan studied Lancel's face carefully and recognized the same boy who had led the group causing trouble the previous night—the one he had driven off.
He also realized the blond knight who first challenged him was Ser Jaime Lannister. The similar golden hair and features made the family connection obvious.
Ethan silently wondered whether last night's visit had been less about faith and more about personal revenge—and whether this public accusation was the next step in humiliating him.
Faced with the king's direct question Ethan shook his head.
"Your Majesty—I have nothing to add.
It is unreasonable to judge truth based solely on the word of a few witnesses.
Besides—I have my own: my apprentice my three comrades and the garrison commander of Rabbitpaw Village Ander Bacchus can all testify on my behalf."
Robert turned to his old friend.
"Ned—where is Rabbitpaw Village?"
Eddard considered a moment.
"Near the Wolfswood Your Grace—roughly three days' ride from here."
Robert shook his head.
"I cannot wait three days."
He turned to his brother-in-law.
"Jaime—if you took five men could you kill that spider?"
Jaime answered simply:
"Difficult Your Majesty."
Robert looked back at Ethan.
"Very well then.
Your name is Ethan Cole correct?
You will fight Jaime.
If you win I will accept your account as true and Lancel will be punished.
If you lose I will confiscate your trophy *and* have you hanged in the market square and given fifty lashes.
The choice is yours."
Ethan quickly calculated in his mind: fifty lashes would not only be unbearable for his body but would shatter the image he had so carefully built as a powerful wandering warrior.
Reluctantly he bowed.
"Your Majesty—I accept your judgment."
He straightened locked eyes with Jaime already picturing the knight's humiliating defeat and couldn't help a faint sneer.
"Ser Jaime—how do you wish to fight?"
Jaime replied:
"Full armor longsword sparring—agreed?"
Ethan had no objection.
"Agreed.
But my armor is at home—please allow me to retrieve it."
Jaime refused immediately.
"No need.
Let your apprentice fetch it.
You stay here and rest."
Ethan understood the refusal: they feared he might use the errand to flee.
He didn't argue.
Turning to Kevin he ordered:
"Kevin—go bring my armor."
"Yes Teacher."
Accompanied by Haiward Kevin mounted "Swiftfish" and rode for the blacksmith's courtyard.
Meanwhile word spread like wildfire across the training yard: Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard would duel Ethan Cole the newly famous "Spider-Slayer" right here in the yard.
The bout—already being called "Spider-Slayer vs. Kingslayer"—drew immediate attention.
Everyone who could dropped their tasks and hurried to watch—even a few young girls peeked from upper windows.
Under direction from Stark guards servants dragged the giant spider to one corner of the yard then used powdered lime to mark out a rough fifty-square-meter circle in the center as the dueling ring.
At the same time more servants carried sturdy wooden chairs from the keep arranged cushions and set them in a shaded spot for the queen and several noble ladies.
Among the women a golden-haired boy—seemingly oblivious to everyone else—pointed toward Ethan and said something that drew laughter from the nearby ladies.
Ethan snorted coldly thinking that nobles never learn basic respect then looked away.
A moment later he noticed a small figure clambering over the spider's corpse.
He started to call out a warning—but seeing two servants hovering protectively nearby he let it go.
Shortly afterward Kevin returned carrying Ethan's armor in a large sack.
Seeing the equipment had arrived Jaime summoned his own squires to help him arm while Kevin assisted Ethan.
At that moment the "child" who had been playing near the spider approached.
As he drew closer Ethan realized this was no child at all—but a dwarf youth who would never grow taller.
"Greetings Captain Ethan Cole" the dwarf said cheerfully.
"Hello my lord" Ethan replied while simultaneously loosening the straps of his breastplate and fitting it over his shoulders.
The dwarf inclined his head.
"Perhaps you've heard of me.
I am Tyrion Lannister—and Jaime Lannister is my brother."
Ethan secured the breastplate straps and answered neutrally:
"I once knew a highly respected predecessor named Tyrion Fordring—a name somewhat similar to yours."
He bent to begin buckling on his greaves.
Tyrion extended a hand showing white lime dust on his fingers.
"Out of curiosity I just examined your trophy.
Even though the remaining flesh inside the carapace has dried from the lime it was still quite firm before preservation—clear evidence the creature was killed while alive."
Ethan clipped the last greave fastener shrugged and said:
"You possess great wisdom in a small body—the exact opposite of most men.
I would be deeply grateful if you could convince the others of your conclusion."
Tyrion wiped the lime dust from his fingers onto his tunic and continued:
"Jaime is not capable of slaying such a monster.
I doubt he would last more than a few exchanges against you.
Even as a Kingsguard he remains only human—while you—who can fell a giant spider in a single strike—cannot reasonably be called 'ordinary.'"
Hearing this Ethan finally grew serious.
Few people could deduce so much from a handful of blurred blade marks.
"What are you trying to say?"
Tyrion shrugged.
"My brother—though sometimes reckless and not always clever—I love him.
And those who love him even more are my father Lord Tywin Lannister Warden of the West and my sister Queen Cersei.
They do not wish to see Jaime defeated by some unknown sellsword.
If Jaime is injured in this duel… things could become unpleasant."
Ethan's eyes flashed cold.
"This is the North my lord.
I do not accept threats."
At that moment Haiward's voice carried from across the yard:
"Ethan—hurry! Ser Jaime is ready!"
Ethan turned and called back:
"Yes—coming at once!"
Then to Tyrion:
"Excuse me—but as you see the duel is about to begin.
I would appreciate it if you stepped aside."
Tyrion frowned.
"You are a brave warrior ser.
If you would be willing to lose to Jaime on purpose…"
Before he could finish Ethan raised a hand to cut him off.
"You insult me."
Tyrion said helplessly:
"Then—may we change opponents?
If you agree to switch I will pay you fifteen gold dragons for your goodwill."
Ethan curled his lip fastened the last clasp on his left gauntlet and countered:
"Lord Tyrion—the king's decree specifically requires Ser Jaime Lannister to duel me.
Will His Grace so lightly accept a change of opponent?"
Tyrion shook his head.
"I will handle that—if you agree."
Ethan gave a short mocking laugh.
"Heh."
Seeing the refusal Tyrion raised his offer:
"Forty gold dragons."
Ethan remained unmoved.
"Thirty-five—and you gain my friendship."
Their eyes met.
Ethan tilted his head slightly.
"How can I trust you?"
Tyrion answered firmly:
"You need not trust me.
You need only remember one truth:
**Lannisters always pay their debts.**"
Finally Ethan donned his helmet gave a single nod.
"Deal."
Tyrion said with genuine gratitude:
"Thank you for your goodwill."
With Ethan's agreement secured Tyrion hurried away took position beside his sister and whispered urgently in her ear.
The queen cast a single glance at Ethan—filled with fear and revulsion.
A moment later both she and Tyrion separately approached King Robert and Ser Jaime.
After a brief hushed argument Ser Jaime's shoulders slumped.
He threw his practice sword to the ground with a ringing clang.
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