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50% GOT: Arthur the Eagle Knight / Chapter 7: CH-7

Kapitel 7: CH-7

Arthur Waters 289 Ac

Westeros was at war once again. Balon Greyjoy had declared independence, thinking Robert Baratheon's rule was weak, but the Seven Kingdoms didn't sit idle. Robert called his banners, and what began with the burning of Lannisport turned into a swift and brutal campaign to crush the Ironborn's rebellion. It became more of a showcase for Robert's strength than a real war.

Ser Edric Rivers was a strange man, especially for a Westerosi knight. Despite the news of loot and glory, he didn't join the fight. His old friends, knights who thirsted for war, had personally invited him. But he refused. "I've seen enough war. Let the young fools take my place," he told them.

Instead, we were on the road to Tumbleton. House Footly had trouble with bandits, as many soldiers had left to fight the Ironborn. With the roads empty, brigands had crept out of the woods, harassing merchants. The pay for handling them was good—better than usual, since most swords had gone north or west for the king's war.

I trotted alongside Edric, my own horse beneath me. A few months back, we'd earned enough coin for it after a job, and Edric's mount could no longer carry us both. Besides, with two horses, we moved faster.

"Should we make camp or try to reach Tumbleton tonight?" I asked.

Edric scratched his nose—a sign he was thinking. "It's been nearly two weeks since I've been with a woman. To hell with camping. I'll sleep tonight with a pair of tits in my face. Let's ride faster."

I tilted my head, amused but not surprised. Edric was a good man, one of the better knights I'd met, but he had his flaws. Women were one of them. Mostly whores, though sometimes it was widows willing to spread their legs for a knight passing through town. Once, we had to flee a village when a woman's husband, thought dead, returned.

Our horses quickened, and the road stretched behind us. As the sun dipped below the hills, we caught sight of Tumbleton. Once a prosperous town, it had never fully recovered from the Civil War. Now, it was little more than a shadow of what it used to be, but it was still bustling with trade and travelers.

As we passed through the gates, Edric called over his shoulder. "Find the best brothel in town and rent two rooms. I'm rewarding myself tonight. I'll join you after I've spoken with the lord."

I nodded, riding off. At ten years old, I'd already taken on more responsibilities. I looked older than my age, like a lad of twelve or thirteen. In this world, you had to mature quickly or risk being left behind—or worse, dead.

After asking around, I found the best brothel in Tumbleton: The Golden Tits. It didn't take long to locate it. Brothels were easy to spot, with their brightly painted shutters and half-naked women leaning out of the windows, beckoning to passersby.

I left the horses in the stable and walked inside, the sweet smell of perfume filling the air. Several women turned to look at me, but upon seeing how young I was, they quickly lost interest. By the door sat a middle-aged woman, eyeing me with a smirk.

"Bit young to be coming in here, aren't you?" she asked, laughing. "Do you even have hair down there yet?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not here for myself. I'm Ser Edric's page. Do you have rooms? We'll need two, though only one of us will be using your other services."

The woman grinned. "We've got a few free. Last two at the end of the corridor on the second floor."

"Good. I'll bring our things up. Ser Edric will settle the bill when he arrives; he's off speaking with the lord."

With a nod from her, I went back to the stable and carried our belongings to the rooms. Once everything was in place, I retreated to mine and collapsed onto the bed. The road had been long, and the weariness was heavy in my bones.

I briefly considered a bath but couldn't muster the energy. Stripping down, I lay back on the bed. The moans and laughter from the other rooms seeped through the thin walls, but I was prepared. I pulled a few pieces of cotton from my pouch and stuffed them into my ears. A trick I'd learned in brothels like this—an easy way to get a quiet night's sleep amidst the noise.

Just as I was about to drift off, there was a knock on my door.

"Hey, lad! Don't get too comfortable. I'll start patrols after training in the morning."

"If you'd be quiet, I could sleep better," I called back, the response met with laughter from a woman outside.

Ignoring it, I pressed the cotton deeper into my ears and finally let sleep take me.


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