Robert moved first.
He lunged forward, the wooden sword whistling through the air toward Galladon's chest.
Galladon remained calm.
He raised his wooden blade with both hands.
Crack!
The swords collided sharply.
Robert pressed forward again.
Another heavy blow.
Then another.
Each strike grew stronger.
Dust shook from the grass beneath their feet.
Galladon's palms began to numb. His arms trembled slightly under the force. He retreated half a step, then another, adjusting his footing.
Robert was surprised.
He had only used half his strength at first—yet Galladon held.
By the third exchange, Robert increased to seventy percent.
The blows became fierce.
The sound of wood striking wood echoed across the godswood.
Galladon slid backward under the impact. A chip splintered from his blade.
Robert grinned.
Now this was interesting.
He surged forward again, strength rising higher.
Galladon's expression sharpened.
He realized something important—
Robert at fifteen already possessed monstrous power.
Perhaps fifteen on the system's scale… maybe more.
No wonder he would one day kill Rhaegar with a warhammer.
After several exchanges, Robert stepped back slightly, scratching his head.
"Sorry, Galladon. I got a little excited."
"I'm fine," Galladon replied calmly. "Use your full strength."
Both Robert and Ned blinked.
"Careful," Ned warned. "If he hits you, you'll break something."
Galladon only smiled.
Then he moved.
Instead of defending again, Galladon advanced.
His stance shifted.
No longer passive.
He had already read Robert's rhythm.
Robert attacked.
Galladon parried.
But at the last instant, he twisted his body and shifted his footing lightly, redirecting the angle.
The downward strike became a near miss.
Galladon countered immediately.
Wood struck wood in rapid succession.
Robert was forced backward.
For the first time, shock crossed his face.
Galladon pressed the advantage, blade darting toward shoulder, neck, abdomen.
Robert blocked, but his footing grew unstable.
This could not continue.
He leapt back three steps.
Then—
He committed.
With a roar, Robert charged, muscles tensing like iron cables.
He swung with near full power, aiming at Galladon's guard.
The blow tore through the air.
Ned stiffened.
Robert aimed to break Galladon's wooden sword and let the remaining force knock him down—not injure him, but end it decisively.
Galladon saw everything.
With his heightened perception, the movement felt slower than it truly was.
He saw the flaw.
Robert had committed too heavily.
At the last second—
Galladon did not retreat.
He dropped low.
His upper body bent backward nearly ninety degrees as his knees hit the grass.
He slid forward beneath the descending blade.
The wooden sword cut nothing but air.
Robert's center of gravity collapsed forward.
In that frozen heartbeat—
Galladon's wooden blade snapped sideways.
Smack.
A clean strike to Robert's left abdomen.
The sound was crisp and unmistakable.
They passed each other.
Silence fell.
Robert stood frozen.
His wooden sword remained raised uselessly.
He looked down at the mark on his side.
Ned stared, speechless.
Galladon rose calmly, brushing grass from his knees.
"Robert," he said lightly, "it seems I won."
Robert swallowed.
Then he laughed dryly.
"You're amazing."
He stabbed his wooden sword into the ground.
Embarrassment flickered across his face—but so did admiration.
He had used nearly eighty percent at the end.
And still lost.
Ned stepped forward, still processing.
That final sliding evasion—
Even he had not anticipated it.
In real battle, armor might have changed the outcome.
But in sparring?
Robert was clearly defeated.
"It was luck," Galladon said modestly.
He knew the truth.
Robert had held back from truly harming him.
In a life-and-death duel with real blades—
Well.
With Just Maid in hand…
That might be a different story.
Robert clapped his shoulder—hard enough to make Galladon wince.
"You're terrifying at ten," Robert muttered. "What will you be at twenty?"
Robert felt a strange mixture of humiliation and pride.
Because Galladon was not a rival.
He was his future bannerman.
If such strength stood beneath his banner—
What did he have to fear?
Robert grinned again.
He suddenly felt very glad he had come to Tarth.
(End of Chapter 14)
A/N:
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