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Second Day.
Morning, Bitterbridge.
Lord Jon Caswell sat with Arthur Whent and Ser Lucas Dayne on a wooden platform beside the riverbank.
Banners of House Caswell, House Whent, and House Dayne hung from the platform.
In terms of status, the three of them were fully entitled to sit there.
Lord Jon was the local lord.
Arthur was the heir to Harrenhal and Earl of Whitewalls, the rising "Dark Knight."
Ser Lucas was a cousin and one of the trainers of the "Sword of the Morning."
Sitting in the middle, Lord Jon Caswell still looked frail, wearing a white tunic and white breeches with the yellow centaur badge.
On his left, Arthur wore black enameled armor; his magnificent, fierce bat-winged helm rested on the long table, and his sword belt held both longsword and Valyrian dagger.
The defendant, the big man Rolly, stood below with a clear air of "I'm not convinced."
Lorent Caswell and his two retainers sat on the other side.
A dense crowd surrounded the judgment field.
With such an incident, many people had come to watch the spectacle.
Lord Jon didn't want to lose face like this, but he had no choice.
"The matter is as follows. If Lorent hadn't forcibly taken my belongings yesterday and insulted me by saying I would never become a knight, stealing the longsword my father gave me as a birthday gift, I would not have acted against him," the big man Rolly snorted, standing in the court and recounting the events.
"Is what Rolly said true? Before the Old Gods and the New, before our honored guest Young Master Arthur and Ser Lucas, you must answer truthfully, Lorent," Lord Jon Caswell asked.
"I…" The scrawny Ser Lorent Caswell stood up hesitantly, unable to speak.
Timid and shrinking, he showed none of the bearing of a knight.
Perhaps this was also why the knights of the Reach sometimes appeared weak—they lived too comfortably, and many were simply filling the ranks without merit.
"Enough, go back to your seat, Lorent," Lord Jon Caswell said angrily.
"Rolly!"
"Rolly!"
The onlookers of Bitterbridge shouted Rolly's name loudly; after all, they were all locals.
They knew Rolly well, and they knew young Lorent.
The big man's blacksmith father was terrified.
After all, although his son's hammer strike had not succeeded, it had come very close.
Old Lord Jon, seeing his son's performance, already knew the truth in his heart.
It was because old Lord Jon had four daughters and only Lorent as heir.
He had become untouchable, unable to tolerate any defiance.
To be honest, the other guards in the yard wouldn't dare touch a hair on his head.
Lorent had run rampant until he ran into a tough guy like big Rolly.
"Ah," old Lord Jon sighed. He definitely wanted to protect his own.
Rolly had reason for his retaliation, but he had still attempted to injure someone—this was a case of mixed fault.
If there were no outsiders here, he could judge as he pleased.
A lord was emperor in his own lands; he had the right of judgment, even the death penalty.
But with outsiders present, he could not act so arbitrarily.
Just like Roose Bolton.
Roose could exercise the right of the first night in his lands, rape the miller's wife, and hang the miller.
But the matter must not leak out, especially not to House Stark.
"Young Master Arthur, Ser Lucas, what do you think?" Lord Jon Caswell asked sincerely.
"The defendant Rolly is your garrison captain and your subject, while Lorent is your heir. These are all matters you, Lord Jon, can decide," Arthur said with a faint smile.
Old Lord Jon's face relaxed; it seemed Arthur was going to side with them.
But Arthur continued, "However, I believe that no matter how you handle it, Lord Jon, you must consider the face of knightly honor, right? As 'the Soul of Knightly Spirit' Saint Baelor said, protecting the weak is what makes a true knight."
Saint Baelor wasn't just the mad zealot Baelor; there was also Baelor "Breakspear."
"Knightly spirit…" Lord Jon Caswell looked as if a bone was stuck in his throat.
Knightly spirit could be empty or real.
Knights swore to help the weak, protect women, fight for justice, and not bully the powerless.
But only very few were true knights.
Most were hypocritical knights, only seeking power and profit.
Monsters like the Mountain, who were evil in every way, and weaklings like young Caswell were still knights.
But anyone who wanted to make it in the world had to uphold the banner of knightly spirit, otherwise their reputation would be ruined.
Especially in the Reach, the birthplace of knighthood.
"Yes, knightly spirit. Lord Jon, you wouldn't want House Caswell's reputation for lacking knightly spirit to spread, would you?" Ser Lucas laughed.
Other Dornish houses might treat knightly spirit as a joke, but House Dayne had no such problem.
House Dayne had always produced Dorne's strongest knights.
Occasionally, even the strongest in the Seven Kingdoms.
"True knight!"
"True knight!"
"Justice!"
"Justice!"
The people of Bitterbridge shouted loudly, the wave of voices rising.
Lorent's face turned pale; he sensed that today he might truly have to back down.
The great man Arthur had not shielded him.
"Ser Lorent Caswell, your conduct was truly improper. Bullying the weak violates the spirit of knighthood…" old Lord Jon Caswell said cautiously.
"Father, I…" Lorent looked stunned.
"Shut your mouth," old Lord Jon Caswell said impatiently.
"Rolly, although you were provoked first, you still raised your hand second. If not for Young Master Arthur's presence, you would certainly have severely injured my son. Moreover, you even raised your hand against Young Master Arthur Whent," old Lord Jon Caswell said, turning to Rolly.
"Yes, my lord," Rolly lowered his head dejectedly. That was indeed how things stood.
In truth, setting aside the matter with young Caswell, old Lord Jon had treated him well by making him a garrison captain. The man was decent enough.
It all depended on how old Lord Jon would punish him.
Westerosi punishments were still quite harsh.
Stealing cost a finger, rape meant castration, poaching a deer meant death.
Slitting the nostrils was the appropriate punishment for maliciously injuring an innocent.
Insulting royalty could cost a hand or a leg.
Insulting a lord was not as severe, but it would not be taken lightly.
"Besides the knightly spirit of protecting the weak, justice is the spirit of a lord. As a lord, I should uphold it even more," old Lord Jon Caswell said.
Seeing the crowd's agitation and the expectations of House Whent and House Dayne.
Old Lord Jon tried to be as fair as possible.
"Would this be acceptable?" old Lord Jon Caswell asked Arthur quietly before delivering the verdict.
"It would," Arthur approved of old Lord Jon's approach.
Old Lord Jon had no choice but to punish this way.
Arthur was far more influential than House Caswell of Bitterbridge, and Arthur was also Lorent's savior.
Since Arthur, out of knightly spirit, did not hold a grudge against big Rolly and asked Lord Jon to handle it fairly, Lord Jon had to accept.
"According to the King's law, we hold this trial. Rolly attempted to injure the lord's heir. Although there were mitigating circumstances, I sentence you to four lashes."
"As for you, Lorent, you should also receive four lashes. But you are my heir, so this punishment can be borne by your whipping boy. Since you have no whipping boy, your two retainers will take the lashes together," old Lord Jon Caswell stood up and declared gravely.
Old Lord Jon still pitied his son, but he had done his best.
Arthur nodded. Lord Jon had already given him considerable face.
A few lashes for the big man was far better than having his nose slit or a hand cut off.
Rolly's eyes widened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He had kept his hands and his nose.
If Arthur had not been here, Lord Jon's punishment would not have been so light.