章 64: Daring Bet
Sixty-four warriors would be chosen from the team melees to participate in duels. Everyone who fought in the previous finals was part of the pool except for those who were too injured or lacked the ability to win on their own, along with most of those who represented the Vale and Reach. The matchups were (definitely) not rigged by Edric.
~
[Sansa's POV]
With Arya sitting next to the King, Sansa had to be further back with the other ladies of the court. It was not something she minded; Margaery and Arrianne were good company. Of course, she'd be lying if she said she wouldn't have preferred to be closer... but it would've been improper.
Meanwhile, Arianne and Margaery had become more enemies than friends. They were never particularly close, but since the incident in Storm's End, it looked like Arianne would do terrible things to her - given the chance.
Sansa wasn't too focused on their conflict, however. She was more interested in the duels. The knights in shining plate armour, adorned with their proud sigils, the mighty warriors from foreign lands and the tourney grounds that would see one man crowned champion from amongst one-hundred and twenty-eight of them.
It was the first event of its kind in recent memory, similar to the joust yet rather than relying solely on the lance, a fighter could use any weapon they wished so long as they were on foot.
No doubt it was Edric's idea, Sansa thought. He always valued duelling more than the joust.
Before long, a loud bell resounded across the field as the first two combatants faced off against each other. Valaegor came first, Rhaerra's most dashing blue cloak. The overwhelming air of arrogance that he carried made Loras look modest. Yet, Sansa remembered how quick he was to concede when Edric stormed their ranks during the melee.
His first opponent would be Robar Royce, John Royce's younger son...
It was not a close duel, hardly. Valaegor had sent him to the ground in the blink of an eye with two consecutive swings of his poleaxe.
The duels continued, with knights from all across the Realm seeing how they fared against one another in single combat. Ser Arthur Tudbury made short work of Andar Royce, his famed Nightfall a blur of black that neither the knight nor most spectators could see. Not soon after, Lyn Corbray's Lady Forlorn sang a tale of victory, defeating a knight from the Westerlands.
Each time a white cloak fluttered in the wind, victory would be assured. The newly sworn lady Brienne would overpower Ser Guyard Morrigen while Ser Loras fought with a determination that Sansa Stark hadn't seen before from him. He did not gesture to the crowd a quarter as much as he usually would, instead focusing on the duels ahead of him. His first, Ser Parmen Crane, did not even last a minute.
Ser Arys and Ser Balon also took the bitter taste of defeat against the blue cloaks the day prior against their opponents. As for Ser Mandon, he did not attend due to his wounds.
Much was the same for the blue cloaks, who did not know a single defeat in the first round of duels.
It looked like the duels would also be their battleground.
On the next day.
The second round was more eventful, given that most of them were the Realm's finest thirty-two. In the most noteworthy clashes; Ser Arthur would defeat the Marcher Lord Bryce Caron, Ser Arys performed to standard and defeated the upstart sellsword Bronn, Ser Balon outskilled Ser Daemon Sand, and Oberyn would best Blackfish with his long-reaching spear.
There were moments of boasting and taunting, especially by Valaegor, who treated the tournament like a formality as he crushed yet another competitor. When he removed his helm and let his long silver hair sway while he smiled and scanned the stands with his deep purple eyes, she could hear a wave of screams that made her feel embarrassed to sit near such a group.
He was very clearly a polarising figure; you either hated him or you loved him. More precisely, the ladies adored him, while the men of the Realm did not take kindly to the foreigner. Sansa found herself more on the latter.
The second round of duels would take less time by virtue of the number of competitors being halved, but Edric chose to rest the competitors for the next day rather than forcing a third round.
On the third day.
The Serjeant of the Kingsguard did not look fazed by Lord Yohn Royce, who donned his ancient bronze armour, which was inscribed by runes thousands of years old. It was said that the runes would ward its owner from harm - yet was the case the same against Valyrian Steel? Sansa doubted it.
As for Ser Arthur, he wore the standard white Kingsguard plate armour, and his sole accessory was an emerald-gold-bronze jewel that kept his cape draped across his back. It was a jewel that perfectly illustrated the sigil of House Tudbury, a brown tortoise within a yellow lozenge on green.
Unlike his other sworn brother, Ser Loras, who was only a bit older - Ser Arthur displayed a confident, honourable and mature aura that matched his older brothers. He performed hardly any theatrics to the crowd, yet the people cheered for him regardless, louder than ever before.
He would defeat Lord Yohn Royce in an honourable, knightly exchange of swords where the Vale Lord's bronze armour had been victim to Nightfall more times than Sansa could count. Afterwards, Lord Royce would congratulate the new Serjeant of the Kingsguard and share some words.
In the second duel, Daman outlasts Arys Oakheart in an arduous duel that would take nearly fifteen minutes to end. Daman seemed mostly unwounded and full of stamina. It looked like he could go for another duel.
Ser Garlan Tyrell bests Ballio in an intense exchange that forces the knight to fight at his very best.
Ser Loras Tyrell defeats Balon Swan in a competitive duel that had both Kingsguard fighting at their very best. Loras looked especially determined, carrying on his previous sentiment and couldn't be denied today.
The fifth clash of the third round would be the most brutal until that point. The Hound had been fighting with a certain aggressiveness and brutality the previous two rounds - even more so than usual. His third fight would be no different.
He didn't waver in the sight of Big Baegel and took lead of the fight, outpacing his opponent and striking with devastating force. His warhammer would undoubtedly bring unwanted memories of Edric as old wounds opened. In the end, the Hound would win convincingly and defeat the man who robbed him of victory at the throwing contest.
The sixth clash would feature Dorne's Red Viper, Oberyn Martell and Gaegor Raelaereonor; the twin-axed barbarian who had earned his fame from the seven-a-side melee. Many considered him to be amongst the top three favorites to win it all, yet he had yet to face a spear wielder half as deadly as the Red Viper - so Sansa had heard.
"My uncle will put that Valyrian slave on his back." Arianne Martell remarked, smiling with confidence. "He'll do what Edric's dog could not."
Margaery Tyrell smiled sweetly. "Would you wish to bet on it?"
"And what would the rose of Highgarden bet?"
"A swift return home, mayhaps." Margaery kept her smile, yet even Sansa could tell that it was writhe with poison. "Princesses who travel too far from their castles for too long tend to catch an awful illness. I'm sure you've grown to miss Sunspear after all these moons away in King's Landing."
"I would say the same to you," Arianne replied, her eyes enflamed with temper. "You must miss your rosy, beautiful, seat in Highgarden. It's nothing quite like King's Landing, though I suppose you don't mind it so much seeing as you have a King's comfort."
Sansa could tell that the ladies who sat between the two were just as uncomfortable as they were intrigued by all the gossip this would create.
"Whatever do you mean?" Margaery looked at her innocently. "His Grace is courteous to all."
"I would not consider him fucking you a courtesy, especially as you are not his betrothed"
"Neither are you, from what I know." Margaery raised an eyebrow. "Are we part of the same Realm, Arianne?"
"You love to act innocent, but you are nothing more than an ambitious whore with a name."
They may as well be duelling each other with swords, Sansa thought as she keenly listened in on the drama. She was, after all, a lady herself.
"The irony of the Princess of Dorne saying that is not lost on me." Margaery chuckled, shaking her head. "How many swords have you sheathed, pray tell? You are most kind to have serviced so many fine men."
"Hmph." Arianne frowned, looking as if she wanted to lay her hands on Margaery. "As if you came to Edric a maid-"
"How slanderous." Margaery pretended to look shocked. "You can't win based on truth, so you resort to lies, princess? I came to Edric a maid, if you have to know. Truth is, I think when it comes to my actions. You simply act on whatever whim suits you."
"Comparing yourself to me doesn't make what you did any better. You couldn't seduce His Grace when he was sober, so you had to resort to striking when he was too drunk to say no. I would never go half as low as you, Lady Margaery."
"Spare me your lies. If the opportunity presented itself, you would have pounced on it without a second thought." Margaery countered, shaking her head. "Who am I to object to His Grace's love and passion? Is he not the Chosen Son of the Seven? It would be a sincere waste, mayhaps even sin, to turn him away."
"I'd wager you did not waste a drop of his 'divine' seed." Arianne kept her frown.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare."
"That will be the last that you will see it," Arianne remarked, her frown turning into a smile. "If I win this bet, you won't be near Edric for a year."
"It would only be fair if it was the same to you."
"Then we have a bet." Arianne grinned with a look of joy. "I hope you come to enjoy your year-long vacation."
"I would not speak so hastily."
Gaegor took to the field first in his knightly armour of full plate, his blue cloak fluttering behind him while he spun both axes in a gesture to the crowd. As for Oberyn Martell, he chose to wear light leather which would keep him light on his feet.
After a short exchange of words, they began to dance. Oberyn struck first with his longer spear, though the spearhead bounced off Gaegor's plate. He countered with one swing, and another, both of which Oberyn completely avoided.
"You don't look so confident now," Arianne remarked.
Margaery's expression remained unchanged.
Oberyn's reach was greater, yet Gaegor kept him far away from any gaps in his armour. For once, the warrior had been forced on the defensive in single combat.
They were even, for what felt like a century.
Until... Oberyn drew first blood, dancing around Gaegor and striking a gap in his lower foot.
"GRAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
Gaegor let out a wild roar that resounded across the tourney grounds while Oberyn retreated to a safe distance with his freshly blooded spear.
"I'LL SLAUGHTER YOU!"
As if he had suddenly been possessed by his loss of blood, Gaegor began to wildly chase Oberyn. The Red Viper would halt his charge with a point of his spear but Gaegor dashed to the side and cut through his spear shaft as if it had been made of water.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
He began to swing wildly, one axe after the other. Oberyn was eventually overwhelmed and suffered a lethal cut to the side of his armour.
He managed to slip away by ducking and rolling in a show of his acrobatic ability.
Afterwards, he was thrown a spear which he caught without much trouble.
With the fate of Arianne and Margaery hanging on the balance of this duel between two of the Known World's most skilled and gifted...
Sansa stopped her breath in anticipation as to who would claim victory.
Would the Red Viper of Dorne triumph over the foreign twin-axed demon?
(Find out in the next chapter of Raiden's Storm Z! Funny, cringe, W reference, idk? I go sleep :purplebedge:)
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