Chapitre 47: A Dogfight
The most anticipated day for the knights awaiting their official appointment arrived, and what once seemed distant filled the center of the kingdom.
There was a tournament of knights in the name of the King's heir, who would likely be born in these days, and this was something the Targaryen family awaited with great nervousness.
In this place were probably the best warriors of the seven kingdoms, at least those who decided to come to this tournament organized by the King himself. According to predictions and dreams, he has mentioned repeatedly that he would know the day of the baby's birth thanks to a dream.
His dreams showed him the future, a bright one in which he saw his son healthy and with an extraordinary future. What he does not know is that his dreams are not what will happen but the most desired thing from his subconscious.
That is the danger of dreaming and confusing dreams with the future; not everyone has that opportunity, and not all dreams are the future. The only reason Haldor had believed in his dreams was that small details were connected, and he obtained exact information about the past he did not know, even with the inherited knowledge of the owner of this body.
"This place smells bad." Haldor was lately very sensitive to smells; horse manure mixed with sweat was not a good combination.
Lucian, who was far away, only hoped that Haldor would not say anything that might make people around him uncomfortable, especially since he had a seat near Viserys, who was arriving at that moment.
"Welcome, everyone! I know many have traveled a long way to be at these games, but I promise you will not be disappointed." Viserys spoke in a strong voice that reached every corner of the place.
"In the great knights of these lists, I see a group unparalleled in our histories. And this great day has been even more favored by the news I am happy to share. Queen Aemma has begun her labor."
All these words caused the tournament space to fill with applause, everyone seemingly happy because the queen was having the king's child.
"May the luck of the Seven shine upon all the combatants!"
Haldor, who was a few seats away from his betrothed, watched this peculiar combat spectacle, and his eyes would be delighted, perhaps by the bloodiest battles of the skilled warriors in this place.
Only now would they know how strong the warriors of this kingdom were, whether they would be able to defeat them or if they were underestimating them.
The first battle would be between Ser Criston Cole and a knight of House Tarly.
The fight was quick; Ser Criston broke the lance before unseating the Tarly knight, winning the battle quite elegantly, demonstrating his great skills.
Undoubtedly, this place was special, where knights were given the opportunity to stand out, even aspiring to the royal guard—something everyone desired, at least for honor.
"What do you think of this tournament?" Rhaenyra, who was watching the fights, turned around with her friend, who seemed to depend on her for some strange reason.
Haldor showed no expression and said, "I really prefer direct combat, or death tournaments; they call them in the north, where one bets all their belongings and the winner takes everything."
"A very peculiar way to lose one's life."
"Or to win it all, women, gold, and honor," Haldor responded as he turned to see Viserys leaving as soon as the tournament had started.
'Could something be happening?' Haldor thought, seeing his slightly depressed face.
But without giving it more importance, he turned around, wanting to continue watching the knights' combats and see how they fought. Undoubtedly, as soon as Viserys left, the fights became dogfights to the death, dying senselessly.
Beside him, Haldor heard a woman who seemed to be Princess Rhaenys speaking: "These knights are as green as summer grass. None have known real war. Their lords sent them to the tournament with fists full of steel and balls full of seed, and we expect them to act with honor and grace."
There was no better way to describe this bloodbath—a complete waste of time.
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