Chapter 19: The Man Taught By a Kingsguard
AN: Half of this chapter will be a recap of the story until now with a bit of the thing you were expecting…
…
298 AC, Red Keep…
The king raised an eyebrow at his Lord Commander's question and looked back at the young man before him.
"It was just a move thought by an old man." Rody said while trying to even his breathing.
Barristan's eyes hardened as he turned to the king and whispered something in his ear. Robert's eyes grew wide for a second then he laughed mockingly.
"You cannot expect me to believe that, Selmy!" The king said, "The boy's instructor must have been just a sellsword in his young days."
"Your grace, if you allow me to talk with the boy for a few seconds, we can learn the truth easily." Barristan said with an unnerving look on his face unlike him.
The king grunted but nodded his head and pulled the dancing master beside him to have a talk about his fighting techniques while Arya followed them. However, their eyes and ears were still on the two men who separated from them. Lord Commander of the Kingsguards dragged Rody to a bank to let him sit as he saw Rody was out of breath after the fight.
"Your name was Rody, right?" Barristan asked.
"Yes, Ser Selmy." Rody nodded his head with respect in his eyes. Although he did not speak with the man previously, he heard enough from Lord Stark to know that the old man standing before him was the embodiment of knightly values the South treasured and one of the best fighters in the Known World.
"I want you to tell me about your story and your teacher's, I hope you could speak about them truthfully." Barristan said.
Rody was confused as he did not know what the old man was speaking about but he still nodded his head after wiping the sweat gathered on his brows.
"Let me warn you, ser. My master is probably not someone you know as he was just a commoner, not a highborn." Rody said.
"Still, I would like to ask my questions." Barristan said persistently like there was something he knew, "Tell me about the man who taught you how to fight, tell me all you know about him?"
Barristan's intense stares disturbed Rody a bit but he thought there was no harm talking about Uncle Duncan. As he was going to begin to speak, a thud came from his side. He turned his head to see the smiling Arya and the king sitting beside him. And the dance master was standing beside them.
"Begin telling boy, little wolf said she can't hear well from a far." The king said as he grinned looking at Arya. Rody thought it was weird to see the king smiling beside a child as the king did not even have a good relation with his own children.
Rody shrugged his shoulders and began telling his story, "Well, I met him after I was banished from Winterfell by Lord Stark."
"Don't lie Rody, father never banished you!" Arya yelled with a frown.
"No, he did. It was just after you were born, my lady. So it is normal for you to not know." Rody smiled sadly remembering the death of his father and what happened after, "I was 10 by then, I had killed my uncle's wife as she tried to kick me out of my house after my father was killed in the squid's rebellion. What Lord Stark did was right, I should have been sent to the Wall or be sentenced to death. Although everything I owned was given to the people who tried to kill me, Lord Stark gave me a second chance to live."
"You never told me about these…" Arya said. Rody was met with Arya's big eyes that were looking at him. Rody did not give an answer but instead continued his story as he did not want to remember about these things.
"I was homeless and I did not have anyone to look after me so the first thing I did was searching for a job. But I was known as a murderer amongst the folk so no one gave me a job." Rody said.
"No matter what, you shouldn't have killed the woman. You should have informed your lord and asked for his help, if everyone takes justice into their own hands, there would only be chaos." Ser Selmy spoke wisely as a criticizing look took over his face.
"Aye, maybe you are right. Although it is not an excuse, I was just a child and overreacted." Rody pursued his lips as he spoke.
"Hmph," The king snorted. "You did the right thing boy, let no one else say otherwise. I would have gutted that bitch myself, if I had been you."
Ser Barristan shook his head in silence and waited for Rody to continue his story.
"Well, after that, only a family of three gave me a job and that was looking after an old man who lived in a hut near the woods just outside Wintertown." said Rody. "The pay was meager but at least, I had somewhere to stay."
"The old man was grumpy, stubborn as a mule and a bane with sniding remarks." A smile came over Rody's face as he remembered Uncle Duncan. "He was quite tall. He had burnt marks all over his body, his face was burnt so much, the skin was as thin as a slice of ham. I understood why he lived in such a remote place when I saw him. His face was a horror to the eye due to the burnt marks."
"If he is burnt so much, then how did he live to survive?" The king asked with a frown on his face. However, no one noticed the confused look on Barristan's face.
"He never told me," Rody said, "I lived with him for a few years and during that time, he told me that I had a talent for sword. He taught me how to hold the sword like a knight, taught me what to do when I face off an enemy or multiple enemies."
"Like a knight, you say?" The king asked, "Knights are rare in the North, and those who belong to the North are known throughout the Kingdoms."
"But he was not of the North, I was told that he grew in the slums of King's Landing. Later, he served as a guard in King's Landing to a man he regarded as a son." Rody said, "I don't know when he was knighted but he once told me that he had fought enough knights in tourneys and that he knew where they were going to hit even before they rode their horses."
"Anyway, a few years later, when I was returning with a friend from Wintertown, I saw blood on the ground just a few kilometers away from the old man's hut." Rody said while rubbing the black feather that was tied to his boot. It was the feather he picked up from the arrow that day and he was keeping it as a reminder to himself to not get cocky as he can be killed with just an arrow, "During those times, there was word around the North about some bandits and they were operating near the Kingsroad so the first thing I thought was them."
"I remember Ned writing to me about them. Apparently, they had a Southern accent." The king said. "Though it was never found who was behind them."
"Aye…" Rody nodded his head, "When I arrived at the hut, there were bodies littered around. I remember counting at least ten bodies downed by the old man."
"Looks like your old man had tough meat!" The king bellowed out a laugh, "Such a man should have been more than a guard."
"Aye, he deserved a better death. I found him at the back of the house. He was still breathing. I insisted on bringing him inside to find someone to treat his wound but he was insistent on breathing his last." Rody looked at the king, "Your Grace must remember the old woman in Winterfell, right?"
"Hmm," The king thought for a bit then a realization came upon his face, "Aye, I remember her. The woman was old enough to be my grandmother."
Arya butted in, finding a chance to speak, "I remember father telling me that Old Nan came to Winterfell at the time of his grandfather."
"The old man was even older than her, the years were harsh on him but he never lost his grip on his sword and died with his sword." Rody felt like there was a lump in his throat. "His final wish was being buried with the things he brought when he came from the South."
"What were those things?" The dance master asked to pry away an answer. He was silent until now but his interest was piqued by Rody's suspenseful story.
"Just a steel sword and a tattered white cloak." Rody shrugged his shoulders and briefly told the rest of his story, "After burying the old man, I packed up my belongings and trailed the bandits. I found them near the lands governed by Lady Dustin. I planned to kill them one by one. My first knight was successful as I killed one of them and another one was blamed for it."
"Huh!" The king grabbed Rody from the shoulder and said, "You've got some brain, boy. Most would have attacked outright."
"However, I was not lucky on my second night, Your Grace. I thought about going after their leaders but they were prepared. I killed one of them but was caught. I was lucky enough to kill my captors but then I was left the only choice of facing them all by myself." Rody said.
Arya was listening with rapt attention like everyone else. The only one who had a contemplating look on his face was Lord Commander Barristan Selmy.
"I faced them in an open area and killed one of them. Just as I was thinking that I was going to die at the hands of these bandits, Ser Rodrik Cassel came riding with his men and slaughtered them. I was taken as a prisoner because they did not know who I was or why I was fighting against the bandits." Rody said smiling, "Well, you have probably heard about the rest of my story from others, Ser Barristan."
"Well it was a good story. The things you lived made you stronger, boy. Never forget your past, for they will be the only things that will help you along the way." The king rose to his feet like he was preparing to leave, "Now, tell us Selmy. You are not a man to trade stories. Why did you ask those questions to this young man?"
"Your Grace, before giving you an answer, I have another question to ask. What was the name of the old man who taught you these things?" Barristan asked Rody.
"Duncan, just Duncan." Rody said as Barristan's eyes grew wide.
"What is it, Barristan?" The king asked. "Duncan is a common name both in the South and the North. There is nothing to be surprised about."
"Indeed, it is a common name, Your Grace. However, this Duncan may be someone we all know." Barristan turned his head to his king and asked. "Do you remember how I received my moniker 'Bold' and how I became a knight?"
"I bet even most of the smallfolk know about it. I grew up hearing about your stories from my father. Every man born in Stormlands knows your story." The king laughed as he spoke. "You attended a tourney at the age of ten and came to be known as 'Bold'. And you won your knighthood when you unhorsed Prince Duncan Targaryen and Ser Duncan the Tall, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
"Yes my lord but there is something most people tend to forget." Barristan nodded his head. "During the tourney I became a knight, I also attended the melee and was defeated by Ser Duncan 'The Tall' himself. He used the same move this young man used."
"You mean to say…" The king frowned.
"Yes, Your Grace." Barristan nodded his head with a serious look. "His height, his skill and his name, everything matches."
"It must be a coincidence." The king said with a thoughtful look.
"He wished to be buried with his white cloak." Barristan said insistently.
"Then why did he go North?" The king asked.
By that time, Rody realized what they were talking about. He was still in awe of what he learned. He never thought that Uncle Duncan could have been a Kingsguard. After all, none wore white cloak other than the Kingsguards.
The king's question was on point but Rody knew the answer partly. "The man who hired me to look after Uncle Duncan said that Uncle Duncan was on his way to Night's Watch to wash away his sins. Though I never learned what those sins were."
"It must be because of what happened in Summerhall…" Barristan said with a frown on his brows.
"No wonder the boy could make Kingslayer yield. I bet even Ned didn't know about it." The king said while looking at Rody as he bellowed out a laugh. "I would have taken you as a squire if you did not have been a knight."
"All of the castle will know about it by morrow." Barristan said as he smiled, remembering his younger days.
"I would like it to stay a secret, Ser." Rody said. "Having people attribute my skill to another is not a good thing. I earned my place by hard work, not because a renowned man was my teacher."
"That is a pity," The dance master said as he shook his head. "While we were talking, two little boys and a blonde maid listened to our talk and they are already gone."
Rody's mouth hung upon while Arya looked at her dance master with stars in her eyes. On the other hand, Barristan was looking at the door with his hand on the pommel of his sword.
"If you don't want people to judge you for who trained you, then prove it to them with your own skill." The king spoke with a look that sympathized with Rody. "There is a tourney coming, join it and win it."
"I'm no good with horses, Your Grace. However, melee is my thing and I will gladly attend it." Rody said.
"It will be interesting fighting against you, Ser Rody." Barristan said.
"Huh," The king looked with a wonder in his eyes to Barristan, "So the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard returns to the field at last!"
"Occasional sparring is good for everyone, Your Grace." Barristan said with a dead face.
"Hmph," The king snorted and turned to Rody. "Let's go and drink some ale, boy. I'm sure you still have some interesting stories to tell."
"My apologies, Your Grace. I know it's rude to refuse the king but Lord Stark ordered me to bring Lady Arya to him, at the earliest convenience." Rody spoke with an apologetic smile on his face.
"So be it," The king said with a grin on his face. "Come dance master, you must have some exciting stories to share with me. And no you cannot refuse me."
The dance master was reluctantly dragged away by the king while Ser Selmy followed them after giving a nod to Rody.
Arya was still in shock learning who taught swordplay to Rody. She still remembered his brothers playing swords in the yard while imitating heroes such as Aemon the Dragonknight, Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning, and Duncan the Tall.
"Rody, were you truly trained by Duncan the Tall?" Arya asked.
"They say so but the man that trained me was so old that he could only be the shell of his old self. Still, he was an important person for me and that won't change no matter who he is." Rody said. "Now, come with me. Let's not be late. Your father should be waiting for you."
"Let's race to the tower, then!" Arya said while jumping to her feet.
"Arya, you shouldn't run in the castle!" Rody sighed as he followed her.
…
By the time they arrived at the castle, Arya was out of breath and the table was already prepared for dinner.
Lord Stark, Sansa and others were sitting at the table and talking while waiting for Arya.
"Arya, did you come here running?" Septa Mordane asked with anger running through her eyes. "Don't you know running is unbefitting of a lady!"
"She did not want to be late, Septa. However, my affairs caused her to be late. Surely you can accept my apology." Rody said while looking at the Septa.
Septa grumbled under her breath and said, "Only this time." Then she returned to her seat.
Arya snorted and ignored the septa while running beside her father. She sat onto the chair reserved for her and waited for the chattering of the crowd to end. However, her patience was limited as she couldn't sit still on her chair.
"Arya, sit still. What are you excited for?" Sansa chimed in from the side and scolded her.
"Hmph, you won't believe what I'm going to tell you!" Arya said.
Some people stopped speaking to each other and turned their eyes to Arya, awaiting her next words.
Lord Stark raised an eyebrow and asked, "What is it?"
"Rody was trained by Ser Duncan the Tall!" Arya yelled in heatedly. Her words were carried to every corner of the small hall and all chattering was stopped at her words.
Rody smacked his hand onto his face and sighed while everyone looked at him.
"Stop blabbering lies, Arya. Ser Duncan the Tall died in Summerhall. Maester Luwin taught us so, don't you remember?" Sansa said with a frown on her face.
"I don't lie!" Arya scrunched up her nose. "Ser Barristan said himself and the king was also there!"
"Care to explain, Rody?" Lord Stark looked at Rody with a confused look on his face.
Rody explained everything in detail as all of them listened with rapt attention. There was nothing to hide as everyone was going to learn it in the morning. By the time he completed his story, Lord Stark's confused look was gone and it was replaced by a contemplating one.
By the time the talk about Ser Duncan the Tall was done, the dinner was finished and everyone was slowly going back to their rooms.
Lord Stark wanted Rody to stay back as he looked like he wanted to talk about something.
"Today was really tiring. And now you put another steak before me to cut. I hope there are no more secrets hidden in your past?" Lord Stark asked.
"Even I didn't know about it, my lord." Rody said exhaustedly.
"No worries, maybe this is a good thing. A bit of fame won't do you a harm." Lord Stark said. "Now that you have a name to back up your skill, you need to prove yourself further. The tourney is in three days. Prove yourself in there and stop the talks about your skills."
"I will try my best, my lord. You can be sure of that." Rody nodded his head.
"Don't try your best, Rody." Lord Stark said. "Win that melee. I increased the prize for melee for your sake and cut up the prize of the joust. With those coins, you can have your village become a small town."
Rody's eyes grew wide at Lord Stark's words, "I… My lord, I don't know if I can win. Even Ser Barristan will be attending the melee."
"Ser Barristan may be the best fighter alive in the kingdoms but you always talk about using your brain in duels. Now show me how you use it." Lord Stark said nonchalantly. "I want no excuse, you will either win the melee, or you will be guarding my day and night with Crag."
"Yes, my lord." Rody smiled wryly.
…
A day before the tourney, Rody was assigned to assist some Stark guards to roam the city and help the City Watch.
Because of the tourney, there was unrest everywhere. Rody was forced to separate two fights, and stop a horse race until afternoon. And now he was having a break at a local tavern.
The tavern was bustling and everyone was drunk and happy. There was a smile on the owner's face as he was making great profit. The tavern girls were having a hard time escaping from groping hands but they were happy as they had a great amount of tips.
"Hey, is that the boy they are talking about?" A man with a long beard and deep in his cup muttered to his friend.
"Who?" The other one asked.
"You know the one trained by Duncan the Tall…" said the man with a long beard.
Some people in the taven began looking towards Rody as he gulped down his ale. He left a silver coin on his table and left the tavern.
The same thing was happening wherever he went these days. Lord Stark said a bit of fame was good but he couldn't have a breath or peace amongst the common folks anymore. There were either words in admiration or scorn but they were always accompanied by looks.
Rody rode his horse towards Flea Bottom, he was going for his last patrol. Then, he was going to return to Red Keep. Some Stark men were waiting for him just at the entrance of the slums.
"Boys, let's patrol the streets and be done for the day. I will throw in a silver coin for everyone who does not complain." Rody said.
"""Aye!!""" Several voices rose from the Stark guards. Rody smiled and led them into the slums.
The place was inhabited by the worst of the city. They scornful and dead eyes watched them as they passed through the streets. Some beggars and some people in rags were sitting on both sides of the city and watching the people going back and forth.
Rody knew most of them were spies or poor people born in slums. They did not have any hope for their lives and they were forced to accept a life in the slums.
Rody witnessed the joy being sucked from the eyes of Northmen. There were also many people who resided in the North and were as poor as these men but they were striving for a better life unlike these people.
They patrolled the streets for a few hours and made their way back out of the slums. The sun was already out of the sky and the darkness of the night was slowly seeping into the city. The streets were deserted except for the inns and whorehouses. Just as they were leaving the slums, Rody heard a faint scream coming from one of the alleyways.
He motioned for his men to stop and unmounted his horse. He told everyone to be silent and listened to the screams, trying to ascertain its way.
Finally, one of the men pointed towards an alleyway. Jory and others made their way there with careful steps and hands on the pommel of their swords.
Rody was greeted by the sight of a woman struggling against three men. The men were trying to tear apart the woman's gown.
"Hey!" Rody yelled to gain the attention of the men but they were too engrossed in their sinful acts, they did not mind the words and only yelled back about the woman being their prey.
Rody did not see any sword on the men and he thought they were probably denizens of the slums. He ran towards the men with the intention of tackling one of them to the ground.
The men turned their heads when they heard about running guards coming towards them. Their eyes grew wide and they yelled to themselves. "Guards!!!"
They did not hesitate to throw the lass to the ground and scatter away like chickens. Rody stopped beside the young woman and ordered his men to catch those bastards.
"Were you harmed, my lady?" Rody asked as he helped the young woman to rise her feet.
The young woman was trembling like a dimming candle and there were tears on her face. She shied away from Rody's touch and sobbed on the ground.
"Girl, the men that attacked you are gone. Look at the sigil on my armor, do you see it?" Rody sighed and knelt beside her and showed her his armor. "It's the symbol of House Stark. We are the Hand of the King's men."
The girl pried away her head from the ground and looked at Rody's armor. Even though it was night, he noticed a strange glint in her eyes.
He helped her to raise her feet and asked her. "What does a young woman like you do in Flea Bottom in this ungodly hour?"
"I… I was trying to find the inn my father was staying at. I must have taken a wrong turn." The girl spoke amidst her sobbing. "We came to the city for the tourney. Father wants to attend the melee."
The girl was no older than him but she looked like a thin glass that could fall apart at any moment. She was probably sheltered all her life and her father was either a minor noble or a hedge knight.
"Do you remember the name of the inn?" Rody asked and spoke again after hearing the name of the inn. "Aahh, I know that place. I was there just a few hours ago. Let me take you there."
The girl nodded her head and Rody motioned for the several men who were still standing beside him to follow. They returned back to the road and Rody helped the young woman mount his own horse.
He told two of his men to follow him while the rest waited for the others who went after the scums.
He took the reins of his horse and walked beside it. "What is your name?" Rody asked.
"It's Ellie, ser." The girl said.
"Ellie, eh?" Rody looked at the girl. "Is your father a hedge knight?"
"Yes, ser. My father was serving Lady Whent until a year ago but we left her service after a disagreement. Now we wander around to find a lord to serve." The girl said.
"Is your father any good with a sword?" Rody asked.
"Father told me he once fought against King Robert in a melee. If not for him, he would have been a champion!" Ellie raised her head high as she spoke.
"Fought against the king?" Rody raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"He said it was a melee that happened in Harrenhal. He often tells me about those times, when the dragons ruled and the kings cared about common folk." Ellie spoke without a care.
"Careful of your words, Ellie." Rody frowned. "You must be as old as me. A wrong word uttered to a wrong person could cost both your and your father's head."
Even in the dark of the night, Rody noticed the color draining from the girl's face. "Don't worry, even though the dragons are not liked in the North, I won't hold a grudge over a few words."
"Thank you, ser." The girl bowed her head in obedience. "Actually, father always says that King Robert's tourneys are a good source of income."
Rody laughed at Ellie's words. "Now those are words that should be uttered proudly."
"Here we are," Rody said and turned his head to one of the guards, "Go and call the girl's father out. Let's see what he is doing while her girl is subjected to the horrors of the capital."
One of the guards nodded his head and went inside the inn. A few minutes later, he came out dragging another man who was drunk.
"Father!" Rody helped Ellie to get on the ground. The girl ran to her father as soon as her feets touched the ground. She hugged him before beginning to cry.
Although the girl was crying her heart out, the man's mind was elsewhere as he bellowed out, "Brin' another ale, wench!"
Rody frowned while looking at the man. He was most certainly not caring about what was about to happen to his daughter if they didn't come to her rescue.
However, now that they were before the inn and the torches hanging on its walls were falling onto their faces.
Ellie's face was like a sculpture unlike any other. Her chiseled face was as slender as wire and her skin was burnished. Sweeping eyelashes were viewed underneath a pair of arched eyebrows. Her button-nosed face was framed by a sharp chin. She had lovely, fire-kissed crimson hair that flowed. Her thin but shapely lips were covered by her green-gray eyes.
She was probably around Rody's age by the looks of her but she was definitely older than him. It was a wonder for her to not be married as her face was enough to steal the heart of some minor lords.
The young girl had probably taken her looks from her mother as there was no resemblance on her face to his father.
"Jack, take them inside and give these to the innkeeper." Rody gave several silver coins to one of the guards. "These should be enough for them to stay for a night."
The guard named Jack began dragging the drunken man inside while the young girl came beside Rody.
"Will you attend the tourney, ser?" she asked.
Rody nodded his head as he wondered what the girl had on her mind.
"I will also be there to watch it." The girl lowered her head and muttered in a small voice.
Rody found the girl attractive but he had no time for these trifling and time consuming things. He still had plenty of time for having a family so the only women he would have in mind would be whores. If he had been someone else, they would have fooled the girl by giving her false hope but Rody did not have such intention.
"Please do not think so high of me, my lady." Rody tried to put a distance between them. "Everyone would have done the same thing if they had been in my place. You do not need to show me any favor."
However, what Rody was expecting did not happen and instead, it backfired. The girl looked at him with shining eyes, "I don't think so, good ser. Most would have ignored it but you helped me." Before Rody could realize what was happening. The girl tip-toed and kissed Rody on cheek and turned back to run inside the inn while yelling. "I will return this favor, you can be sure of that."
Rody was left gobsmacked while the guard beside him whistled with a grin on his face. This was not something he was expecting…
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