Capítulo 11: Tourney at Harrenhal IV
This chapter is a bit of a sneak peak. So if you want absolutely no spoilers, then you shouldn't read it. I created this, because I will once again, have very little time and don't know when the next chapter will come out. I'm sorry about that. But I'll definitely write a few things whenever I have time.
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(Meera Reed POV)
Years ago, in the height of summer, my father Howland Reed told my brother and me a story. He only told it once and he refused to speak of it ever again. When he was a young man, in the year of the False Spring of the year 281 AC, a great southern Lord, Lord Walter Whent, held the largest tourney Westeros had ever seen in the largest castle Westeros had ever seen, Harrenhal in the Riverlands. Officially, it was to celebrate the name day of his maiden daughter.
Knights and Lords from across the Seven Kingdoms made their way, drawn by the spectacle and the size of the lavish prizes offered by Lord Whent. Lord Walter also wanted to present his massive castle and his fine sons, to forge bonds and political marriages, as is usual in Westeros. Even the King was rumoured to be attending, though none had seen him for years.
Ours, House Reed of Greywater Watch, is a noble but a small House and my father had come to Harrenhal, only to be part of the magnificence whose like he'd never see again.
One afternoon, he was walking across the field enjoying the warm spring day, when he was set upon by three squires. None were older than 15, yet all were bigger than him. The crannogmen are rather small men, compared to others. This was their world as they saw it and he had no right to be there. They snatched away his spear and knocked him to the ground, cursing him for a frog eater. Every time he tried to rise, they shoved him down and kicked him when he curled up on the ground.
But then they heard a shout: 'That's my father's man you're kicking.', howled the She-Wolf. Lyanna Stark, the young daughter of Lord Rickard Stark, Warden of the North and my father's liege lord. Lyanna laid into the squires with a tourney sword. Before the three squires could run away, another presence made himself known. From behind the squires, a large man stood and stopped them from leaving. 'Are you done with these, Lyanna? Or do you want me to give it a go?', the man said. Leman Stark, the Russ as he would later be known, the Wolf King stood there, imposing and strong already at the tender age of 13.
My father was bruised and bloodied, so Leman lifted him up and carried him over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes, handling him as if he weighed nothing and bringing him back to Lyanna's tent to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There, he met Lyanna's other brothers.
Wild Brandon Stark, the heir and the eldest, who led them. Quiet Eddard, the honourable and Benjen, who was the youngest of the four, but second youngest of the five. The atmosphere was enjoyable, with Leman casting a protective shadow over everything and impressing my father.
That evening, there was to be a feast in Harrenhal, to mark the opening of the tourney and Lyanna insisted that my father attend, as he was of high birth and had as much a right to a place on the bench as any other. She was not easy to refuse, this Wolf-Maid and Leman also encouraged him to attend, since 'it would be the best way to get to free food'. So my father borrowed suitable clothes from Benjen, since despite being the younger, Leman was far too large and went up to the great castle. The dining hall was humongous and under Harrenhal's great roof, my father ate and drank with his fellow Northmen.
It was an enjoyable time for my father. He sat close to the Stark siblings since it was Lyanna who insisted he'd attend.
A Black Brother besieged the Knights to join the Night's Watch, to snickers and smiles. Everyone refused to join such a place where the cold was their only companion. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the Crown Prince, sang a song so sad, that it brought tears to Lyanna's eyes. But when Benjen teased her for it, she poured wine over his head, gaining chuckles from Brandon, but a sour look from Leman. Over the course of the feast, my father said that Leman Stark was the only one who was seemingly not having a good time. He looked at the Crown Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen with a strange look after he had sung his song and made Lyanna cry. According to my father, he thought that it was because he was overprotective.
Lord Baratheon drank down Richard Lonmouth, the knight of Skulls and Kisses in a wine cup war, apart from doing other things. My father also remembered a beautiful woman with purple eyes who danced with the Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy and several others. As the evening approached, Brandon Stark asked her for one more dance on his shy brother's behalf and so Eddard Stark said the last dance of the celebration with Lady Ashara Dayne. Ironically, the only one who was asked to dance by Lady Dayne herself was Leman Stark and he refused her briskly.
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Abruptly, the hall went quiet ... the Mad King had arrived after all and was now entering the hall with his Kingsguard. He hadn't left the Red Keep in years and none could believe the state of him. His long yellow fingernails, tangled beard and ropes of unwashed matted hair made his madness plain for all, nor was his behaviour that of a saint man, for in the blink of an eye he could go from hysterical laughter, weeping to rage. But when he commanded Ser Jaime Lannister to kneel before him and swear the oath of the Kingsguard before half the Lords of the realm, a cheer burst from the crowd, for Ser Jaime was much admired for his courage, gallantry skill with a sword.
Within all this merriment, my father saw the three squires who attacked him, attending their Knights. Lyanna saw them too and pointed them out to her brothers. 'I could find you a horse and some armour that might fit.', Benjen offered. My father thanked him but gave no answer. Our people sit in boats more often than on a horse and our hands are made for oars, not lances. As much as he wished to have his vengeance, he knew he'd only make a fool of himself and shame his people.
Before the feast was over, something unimaginable occurred. My father couldn't remember when it started or how it happened, but the bad mood of Leman Stark gradually got worse. My father said that he felt like the sun was going down as Leman's mood worsened and that the lights began to flicker more and more. Almost as if a wind had picked up. The reason for this was Lord Robert Baratheon who at that point was betrothed to Lyanna, his beloved sister. Throughout the feast, Lord Robert had gotten more and more to drink and his judgement seemed to grow worse. Due to Leman's attention, my father saw Lord Robert getting more intimate with the servant girls and even touched them in inappropriate places.
According to my father, the straw that broke the camel's back was when Lord Robert forced a servant girl on his lap and they made out, while others laughed to the side. Father said that a storm was let loose in the dining hall. The large table was smashed and Robert Baratheon was yanked outside to have a brawl. My father didn't, but Brandon, Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen all ran after the duo. I don't know what really happened between Robert and Leman, but the relationship between them and also between Eddard and Leman worsened after this.
Eddard Stark offered my father a place in his tent that night. Leman Stark didn't have a tent as he together with his giant wolves slept in the woods away from all other Lords and Ladies. Before my father slept, he knelt on the lake shore, looking across the water to the Isle of Faces and said a prayer to the Old Gods.
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The next day in the tourney, the three knights whose squires had beaten my father, unseated their opponents and earned a place among the champions. But late in the afternoon, as the shadows grew long, a Mystery Knight appeared in the lists. He was short and clad in ill-fitting armour, cobbled together from different suits. On his shield was painted a heart tree of the Old Gods. A white weirwood with a laughing red face.
The mystery knight dipped his lance before the king and rode to the end of the lists where the five champions had their pavilions. You can guess the three he challenged. Whoever the mystery knight was, the Old Gods gave strength to his arm. All three knights fell before him. None, well-loved, so the common folk cheered the knight of the falling tree, as the new champion was soon called.
When the fallen foes sought to ransom their horses and armour, the knight of the laughing tree's voice boomed through his helm and told them: 'Teach your squires honour. That shall be ransom enough.' Once the defeated knights chastised their squires sharply, their horses and armour were returned. And so, my father's prayer was answered.
The king was furious. In his madness, he suspected a traitor in his midst. Perhaps, even the newly made Ser Jaime Lannister whom he had already sent back to the Red Keep. That night, the King asked Lord Robert Baratheon to take to the lists and unmask the mystery knight, declaring him no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets and the king took his seats, the knight of the laughing tree had vanished. All they ever found was his painted shield hanging abandoned in a tree.
My father's tale ended here. He never spoke more of Harrenhal, though he must have seen Prince Rhaegar's victory. Some whisper that Prince Rhaegar himself had arranged the entire tourney in secret, in a way to gather the great Lords and address his father's apparent madness. Perhaps even remove him from the Iron Throne. But when I asked my father about this, he only shrugged sadly. What Rhaegar intended, none can say. But all know what he did.
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This was a bit of a sneak peek for you on what to expect. There are many more things that are going on though which I didn't include here to make it more interesting next chapter. I am unsure when the chapter comes out, but probably next week. I will see what I can do.
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