"Ned, your turn!"
Robert, now fully recovered from his own defeat, grinned wickedly.
If he had fallen, there was no way he would let Ned stand safely on the sidelines.
Eddard sighed inwardly.
He was fourteen.
Galladon was ten.
Winning would be normal.
Losing would be humiliating.
But under Robert's expectant gaze—and Galladon's calm, steady eyes—there was no escape.
Ned pulled the wooden sword from the ground and stepped forward.
The three formed a triangle in the godswood clearing.
"Same rules," Robert declared cheerfully. "The first clean hit wins!"
Wood struck wood.
A sharp crack rang out.
Galladon instantly measured Ned's strength.
Slightly above his own.
Not by much.
Perhaps just over nine on his internal scale.
Ned was steady.
Very steady.
Unlike Robert's explosive style, Ned's swordsmanship was disciplined and precise.
Strike.
Block.
Counter.
Block.
Their wooden blades collided again and again in quick succession.
Seven. Eight. Ten exchanges.
Ned's brow furrowed.
Something felt wrong.
No matter what angle he attacked from, Galladon seemed to anticipate it. Every strike was met cleanly. Every opening vanished before it could be exploited.
Robert had raw power.
Ned had balance.
But Galladon—
Galladon had rhythm.
And terrifying calm.
Ned's breathing grew heavier.
If this continued, he would lose.
He made a decision.
Using the recoil of the previous strike, Ned shifted his stance and spun.
A full-bodied rotation.
He gathered the force of his waist and shoulders into a single descending slash.
A decisive blow.
If Galladon blocked it head-on, he would lose.
Even Galladon's arms could not withstand the force without giving way.
Robert's eyes widened.
Now this was serious.
But Galladon had been waiting.
He saw the shift in Ned's weight.
He saw the commitment.
As Ned's blade came down—
Galladon pivoted right.
Cleanly.
The wooden sword sliced empty air.
Ned's momentum carried him forward.
Balance broken.
In that exposed instant—
Galladon stepped in.
Smack.
His wooden sword struck Ned's left shoulder and ribs.
The sound was unmistakable.
Silence followed.
Then—
Robert burst into laughter.
"Ned! You lost too!"
Eddard stood frozen for a heartbeat, then slowly exhaled.
He looked at Galladon.
"I lost," he admitted honestly.
Galladon shook his head slightly.
"It was close."
It had not truly been close.
But there was no need to say that.
Ned understood something far deeper than the sparring result.
He was fourteen.
Galladon was ten.
And already, they stood nearly equal.
What would happen in five years?
Eight?
When Galladon reached his age—no.
When Galladon surpassed it?
Ned thought of legendary names.
Arthur Dayne.
Barristan Selmy.
Galladon possessed:
Strength nearing his own.
Agility superior.
Combat instinct beyond his years.
And the holy blade Just Maid.
Who could beat that combination?
Ned felt both admiration and a quiet sting to his pride.
Robert, however, had completely recovered his mood.
Now that both he and Ned had lost—
Balance restored.
No one could mock the other.
He slung an arm around Galladon's neck enthusiastically.
"In a few years, you'll be unstoppable!"
Galladon smiled awkwardly, uncomfortable with such direct praise.
"Enough," he said lightly. "Come. I'll show you something better than swords."
Sapphire Bay
He led them down toward the private beach of Sapphire Bay.
Crystal-clear waters shimmered beneath the sun.
Two curved cliffs embraced the small stretch of sand like protective wings.
Ancient trees leaned over the shoreline, their shadows dappling the sea.
The water was calm and blue as glass.
Robert's eyes lit up immediately.
"Why didn't you show me this before?"
"You never stayed long enough," Galladon replied with a grin.
Soon, shoes were discarded.
Shirts followed.
Robert leapt from a rock into the sea with a splash.
Ned waded in more cautiously.
Galladon dove smoothly beneath the surface, his swimming skill evident in every movement.
Water fights broke out.
Robert used his height advantage shamelessly, splashing with wide, powerful strokes.
Galladon retaliated.
Then, with a mischievous grin, he dove again.
Moments later—
A lobster flew from his hand and struck Robert's neck.
"Ah!"
Robert yelped as the lobster pinched him before he flung it away.
Laughter echoed across the cove.
Eventually, they floated quietly under the shade.
Relaxed.
Peaceful.
Then Galladon spoke again.
"Robert. Ned. Shall we have grilled fish tonight?"
Robert blinked.
"You're going fishing?"
Galladon smiled.
"No. We'll shoot them."
Robert's interest ignited instantly.
The rocky shallows teemed with fish.
Clear water.
Short range.
Perfect for archery.
"Compete?" Galladon asked casually.
His eyes sparkled.
Robert grinned.
Another challenge.
Another battle.
And this time—
He intended to win.
(End of Chapter 15)
A/N:
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