7th Moon, 8030, Four Years after the Lion's Rebellion
Throne Room of the Red Keep
The King ran his hand over the huge tapestry on the wall of the large hallway, his hand resting near the man that was meant to represent his father.
King Aegon Targaryen was mounted on a magnificent white stallion armored in black boiled leather adorned with silver and rubies in the shape of a dragon, his hand resting on Blackfyre, his horse adorned in a caparison of heavy black and red, his face determined and proud.
Depicted behind him was Vaemonds mother Visenya, looking stern and regal in black leather, a sharp contrast to the cheering crowds on the sides of Oldtowns cobbled streets, his aunt Rhaenys wore a dress of black and gold with a necklace of rubies, her mouth open in a smile as if laughing at some unheard jape as the procession approached the black Starry Sept for the King's coronation.
The myrish tapestry weavers had used a special thread for the eyes, and as Vaemond looked into them, he could almost see the stern pride of his father as he had seen Vaemond don his squires armor for the first time, the quiet intelligence of his mother as if she was seeing more than the others saw, and his aunt Rhaenys’s light purple eyes almost seemed to sparkle as she laughed.
The weavers had done their finest work on the dragons. Flying high above his family in a clear blue sky were Vhagar, shining like an emerald, the bronze Meraxes, wings spread in flight and at last Balerion, looking a veritable giant, weaved with black thread from Asshai, eyes red as fire.
Just the sight of his fathers dragon was enough to elicit memories of that day at sea, the frigid cold of the water, Vaemond found himself oddly disconcerted by the sight of it, like he was seeing a ghost, long dead but very much alive in the threads of far Asshai.
‘’Your Grace.’’ the voice behind him said gently.
Vaemond realized he had been silent for quite some time and turned to Stannis Errol, the realm's new and young Master of Coin ever since Lord Arryn had relinquished the position citing his wish to return to the Vale.
‘’Yes….this will do, tell them they have done magnificent work deserving of twice what we agreed upon, 200 dragons and not a groat less.’’ Vaemond said.
Stannis Errol bowed and went to see the weaver paid, Vaemond glanced to his side where his brother Matarys stood, arms crossed, teary eyed as he examined the tapestry.
‘’It is like they are alive again….before our very eyes.’’ Matarys said sadly.
Vaemond nodded ‘’That was the idea when I contracted the best weavers in Myr…..our descendents should know their history, the story of our family…..it was father who started the construction after all.’’
After well over two decades of construction, the fortress upon the highest hill in Kings Landing whose construction had been started in the reign of Aegon the Conqueror had finally been finished. The castle, made of pale red stone, was protected by huge curtain walls, seven drumm towers and heavy bronze gates, a great hall had been built as well as large residential keeps and kitchens, a residential tower for both the sworn brothers of the Kingsguard and the Hand of the King. The grounds were also dotted with small open air courtyards, gardens, granaries, armories and other small keeps, the expense had been massive over the 20 years of construction with countless gold dragons being invested into the new seat of Targaryen power.
The wooden Aegonfort would be torn down beginning this day, as the royal family were officially moving into their new and much larger royal apartments, with Vaemond ordering the timber leavings to be donated to the poorest of the city so that they may build homes.
Hearing footsteps he turned and smiled as he saw Nyel and Demerei Royce ushering in the Princess Laena, Jaekar and the newest member of the Targaryen family little Princess Alysanne, who had been born shortly after Loren Lannisters surrender.
Behind them marched the two newest members of the Kingsguard Ser Ryon Wells and Ser Rodrick Mooton, replacements of Ser Androw Leygood and Ser Gregor Goode. Ser Androw had passed earlier that year after a disease that he insisted upon treating himself due to his education at the citadel, a decision that had cost him his life.
Ser Ryon Wells, a sand dornish from Nymerwell had been appointed as the first Dornish member of the Kingsguard as fulfillment of Vaemonds promise to Deria following the war, a kind and steady man he was a solid choice. Ser Roderick Mooton was much younger and hailed from Maidenpool, being a grandson of old Lord Jon Mooton, who had fought for Vaemonds father upon the field of fire, led his honor guard at Oldtown and even served as Marshal of the realm for a time, despite his young age, the boy proved to be an exceedingly hard worker and a skilled sword, with his appointment showing the connection between the crown and House Mooton spanned generations.
The children looked around with wonder as they walked down the airy hall of the Great Hall, with even Demeri Royce and Nyel looking impressed. Vaemond made occasional visits to tour the progress of the keep but for the rest of his family it would be their first time seeing their new home.
‘’I had expected you earlier.’’ Vaemond said, drawing Nyel close to him in an embrace.
Nyel laughed and ran a hand through Laenas silver hair ‘’This one did not wish to get out of bed.’’
‘’That sounds like our daughter.’’ Vaemond said with a wry smile, gesturing his family onwards after they had a chance to admire the myrish tapestry.
They walked down the long hallway until they entered through two massive doors carved magnificently in oak and bronze.
If any man would criticize the time it took to build the Red Keep the great hall was the reason why. The great hall was truly an extravagance, being large enough to hold well over a thousand people and without a doubt being the largest such attendance chamber in the entire realm save for the ruins of Harrenhall.
Huge windows adorned the sides of the great hall, made of the finest myrish glass money could buy, while marble and gold pillars stood forebodingly, rising into the air like giants.
In front of all of it was the Iron Throne, its swords consuming the dais like some giant beast. Moving it from the Aegonfort had been no easy task, and it had required tearing down the Aegonforts modest timber longhall and transporting it through the keep with several wagons.
His family stopped with amazement as they took in the magnificent sights, with little Alysanne babbling something unintelligible while even Laenas normal bored expression had been replaced with one of awe.
Nyel took his hands ‘’Vaemond this is…..perhaps a bit excessive.’’
Vaemond gave a light laugh at that ‘’You may be right my Queen….in truth it was father that set the plans and specifications of the construction, I made no changes, but our family should have a seat that stands the test of time, and this is far more fitting a place for our descendents than a wooden longhall.’’
After a while of walking the great hall, Nyel left with the little princess, who had grown tired to take her to the new royal apartments, leaving Vaemond, Laena, and Jaekar alone to marvel in the magnificence of the great hall.
Vaemond felt Laena take his hand, her face hesitant.
‘’Say your mind Laena.’’ the King said gently, giving her hand a light squeeze.
‘’Will I sit there one day father……will I be the Queen one day?’’ Laena asked.
‘’Only Kings get to sit in the throne Laena…..a girl can't rule the Kingdoms.’’ Her younger cousin Jaekar responded haughtily, Vaemond saw much of himself at that age in his young nephew, particularly his penchant for blurting out whatever came to mind.
‘’There has only been two rulers of the Kingdoms…..who says a girl cant rule you stupid…..Lady Stark rules the North and Deria Martell is princess of Dorne’’ Laena responded angrily.
Vaemond placed a calming hand on both of their shoulders, separating the two.
He knelt down before his daughter.
‘’The lords of the realm will always prefer a man Laena….thats the truth of it…I won't lie to you.’’ Vaemond said slowly, considering his words.
‘’So I wont be Queen?’’ Laena asked, a frown setting on her face.
‘’Now I didn't say that, did I.’’ Vaemond said, taking her hands in his own.
‘’You are my first born child Laena….you are smart and you are brave….you would make a fine Queen, the lords would be lucky to have you as their ruler.’’ Vaemond said.
‘’What if you have a son?’’ Laena protested.
‘’Then you will have a little brother and our family will be that much stronger.’’ Vaemond replied, before he saw his captain of his new household guard Ser Joreth Uller standing in the doorway.
Laena looked as if she was about to say something else but Vaemond got to his feet ‘’If you ever want to become Queen though that means you will have to be more diligent in your studies…the lords of the realm would hardly accept a ruler that doesn't even know her foremost vassals house words and sigils.’’
‘’I would sooner explore.’’ Laena replied.
‘’After.’’ Vaemond said with a small smile before calling out to Duncan Lake to escort her and Jaekar to their lessons with the new Grandmaester.
Duncan Lake was another new member of the Kingsguard, a northman from a minor house in the Lonely Hills on the shores of Long Lake brought in to replace Ser Warrick Manderly, the rogue Merman who had officially been stripped of his cloak.
Unlike his other sworn brothers, the man was not a knight but he had a kind heart and an honorable and brave temperament, more than enough qualifications for Vaemond.
Another thing set Duncan Lake apart from his sworn brothers as well, one far more disadvantageous than lacking knighthood, the man lacked the use of his legs and was confined to a wheeled chair the grandmaester had constructed for him. To be sure he had been healthy when appointed to the Kingsguard, but shortly after a degenerative disease had made it so that he could no longer walk.
Rather than stripping the man of his white cloak, Vaemond would allow him to serve out the remainder of his days as a Kingsguard, in truth the man likely did not have very long, but he still made himself of use, serving as a food taster and serving as a companion of sorts to Laena and Jaekar, making sure they stayed out of trouble.
‘’Come princess…..prince’’ Duncan Lake said with a smile, slipping Laena and Jaekar a piece of candy as they made their way to their lessons.
Vaemond smiled as he watched them leave, with the war over he had the opportunity to spend much more time with his daughter, and he had taken advantage of the opportunity, coming to appreciate her wit and personality, it was clear she would grow into a formidable and intelligent young woman, Queen or no.
With that settled, Vaemond made his way towards Ser Joreth Uller.
Ser Joreth was another new face at court, having been appointed shortly after the Lion's Rebellion, the second appointment made to honor Dorne for the loss of Prince Lewyn during the war. In years past, the security of the Aegonfort had been overseen by the Gold Cloaks of the city watch, but with the massive Red Keep being finished, Vaemond thought it best his family be protected by a specially trained and independent force known as the Dragon Cloaks for their heavy linen cloaks bearing the Targaryen sigil, some 100 knights and 100 men-at-arms, all heavily armed and armored who would oversee the security of the keep.
Ser Joreth Uller had been chosen as their first captain, a hardworking if unremarkable man, he took the security of the royal family extremely seriously, often to the extreme.
‘’Vhagar has been sighted flying over the Gate of the Gods your Grace.’’ Ser Joreth reported, ever since Visenya's death, her dragon had ran rampant through the crownlands, killing sheep and causing much terror over the years, becoming known as the Green Fury.
‘’So today is the day it seems.’’ Vaemond replied, running a hand through his beard.
‘’Your Grace….you need not come personally…the risks…’’ The captain began but Vaemond shook his head.
‘’Moondancer and Narrah will be needed if this has any chance of working.’’ Vaemond said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder before finding Nyel, who had returned after putting down Alyssane and was currently admiring the tapestry.
After explaining the situation to her, they both made their way out of the Red Keep, where they mounted horses and assembled an escort of some 50 Dragon Cloaks and the sworn brothers of the Kingsguard, save for Duncan Lake and Ser Ryon Wells, who would remain in the keep and guard the children.
The Lord Commander, Corlys Velaryon was notably absent from the escort as well. After near three decades of service, he had requested a short leave to participate in a small tourney in the Stormlands and Vaemond was all too willing to give him a much deserved break from the stressors of the capitol, in his place Ser Harold Langward led the Kingsguard.
‘’Did you dream anything….any sign?’’ Vaemond asked Nyel as they rode through the mud and cobbled streets of Kings Landing.
The Queen shook her head ‘’Nothing for years Vaemond.’’
He paused for a moment before responding ‘’You don't need to be here….if something should happen, the children could be left without both of us.’’
‘’I am needed Vaemond, Narrah was hatched from an egg borne of Vhagar, I don't know if that will bear any weight, but she is bigger than Moondancer as well.’’ Nyel responded, her eyes fixed ahead on Rhaenys’s hill as the Dragonpit came into view.
The Red Keep was not the only major construction project to have been finished in the four years since the wars end, Vaemond had been concerned about the future of his house, Vhagar, his mothers dragon ran amok through the Crownlands while Meraxes, his aunts dragon and the largest surviving dragon in the world was lost to them as well, fled across the Narrow Sea.
Vaemond had ordered the building of the dragonpit, a massive gargantuan domed building designed to hold the Targaryen dragons within huge caverns, and to hold them after their riders death, preserving the Targaryens greatest assets through the generations and preventing untamed dragons from running amok in the countryside.
The expense as one might have guessed was enormous, costing the crown well over 7000 gold dragons, much of it borrowed from the Iron Bank, but Vaemond thought it a small price to pay for securing his family's power.
The dragon keepers welcomed them to the pit. In addition to the pits construction, Vaemond had also funded the training of an order known as dragon keepers, 77 men in black armor who had learned the language of old Valyria and would control, feed, and defend the contained dragons.
‘’Confine Aelesar away from the center pit if you would, and have Moondancer and Narrah saddled…..we must also prepare the chain…Vhagar has been spotted within the city…we do this today.’’ Vaemond commanded and the Dragon Keepers nodded and made preparations, Aelesar, his brother Matarys’s white and gold dragon was far too small to be of much use in their task, being under 10 feet long, but Moondancer and Narrah would serve.
When the saddle was placed on Moondancer and he was let out of the cavernous pit by the Dragonkeepers, shouting commands in Valyrian, Vaemond greeted him, stroking Moondancers nose. Unlike other dragons, Moondancers scales were not rough and large, but tiny, thousands of them as small as ringmail made from pure white snow, he had grown in recent years but was still quite small, barely being over a dozen feet long, just big enough to ride.
‘’I am sorry to leave you in a place such as this…’’ Vaemond said in rough Valyrian to his dragon, who nuzzled him back, in truth even with the dragonpit built he would have preferred to let Moondancer and Narrah roam free and hunt as they pleased, the cost to compensating shepherds be damned, but with Vhagar prowling the area, the risk of its confrontation with the smaller dragons was too great, though Vaemond hoped that would change after today when Vhagar would hopefully be confined to the Dragonpit.
He climbed onto Moondancers back with ease, Moondancer was an amiable beast and offered little complaint to his bonded rider.
His sister mounted Narrah beside him, Narrah had grown three feet in the years since the battle of King's Landing and was approaching 20 feet, nearly half a dozen feet longer than Moondancer, in large part due to the red dragon's voracious appetite.
‘’This could be a bad idea.’’ Vaemond said curtly, steadying himself in the ornate saddle on Moondancers back.
‘’There's only one way to find out.’’ Nyel said, securing her hair with a silver dragon pin as the two urged their dragons into the air, sure enough Vaemond saw Vhagar, the large green dragon of nearly 60 feet flying lazily just outside the gate of the gods, a nervous crowd forming in the streets near the gate.
With Moondancer and Narrah safely out of the way, the Dragonkeepers and Dragons Cloaks began the plan.
A large herd of sheep, numbering more than 100 was led out in front of the Dragonpit, with several being herded into the large cavernous entrance, more than sufficient bait for a large dragon.
It did not take long, only 15 minutes until the winds brought the scent of such a large herd to Vhagar, with the dragon flying ponderously over the city, and Vaemond could hear screams of terror from the city as the Green Fury passed overhead towards the dragonpit.
Vhagar let forth a stream of fire upon the first group of sheep, landing upon the ground outside of the Dragonpit with a crash that Vaemond and Nyel could hear all the way from their positions high in the sky.
After his prey was sufficiently roasted, Vhagar quickly devoured his first course, leaving scant traces of his meal left before the dragon slowly made its way into the entrance of the dragonpit, following the bleats of the unfortunate sheep inside.
‘’It's a wonder it can even fly.’’ Vaemond observed, Vhagars affinity for sheep was readily apparent.
‘’It's time.’’ Nyel responded when Vhagar had disappeared inside the cavernous Dragonpit, ordering Narrah towards the entrance where Vhagar had disappeared into, while Vaemond ordered Moondancer to another large entrance on the other side of the domed dragonpit, landing on the ground and commanding Moondancer to continue onside on foot.
They found Vhagar inside in the center of the dragonpit, tearing apart the burned corpses of several sheep, Vaemond urged Moondancer forward slowly towards the center while Nyel did the same with Narrah from the other.
The big green dragon, which was near twice as large as Moondancer and Narrah combined scarcely seemed to notice, thoroughly focused on its meal, until Moondancer gave a shriek of alarm, which echoed throughout the cavernous dome.
Vhagar ponderously turned its head ponderously to greet the uninvited dinner guest, emitting a deep rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very ground.
Before Vhagar could make any sort of move in defense of its food, Narrah gave a sudden cry, showing that the small white dragon did not stand alone.
Vhagar once again turned lazily to greet the newcomer, this time emitting a loud shriek when it saw the red and white dragon. Narrah had been hatched from an egg from Vhagar and Vaemond hoped that would prove useful in avoiding any potential conflict.
Vaemond spared a quick glance up to the walkways above the center pit, and saw that the dragon keepers were preparing the chain above, Vhagar too distracted by the two smaller dragons to notice the men, scuttling about like ants above her.
The dragon keepers pulled the massive set of chains above with a winch, angling it above the large green dragon.
Vhagar, seeing the two smaller dragons were making no move to steal its abundance of sheep, suddenly grew disinterested and returned to eating its meal, emitting a lazy cry of contentment.
Now Vaemond thought to himself.
The Dragonkeepers were of a similar mind and released the massive set of chains to fall from the ceiling with a loud clattering thud.
Vhagar gave a deafening shriek of alarm and tried to free itself from the heavy chains in vain.
Dragonkeepers emerged from the side tunnels and began shouting in Valyrian at the great beast, though as it had not been trained to listen to their commands, it only served to both confuse and distract Vhagar.
Dozens more rushed at the chained dragon to secure, lock, and fasten the chains more securely over its hind legs and body, Vhagar, though encumbered by the weight of the unfastened chains, let forth a stream of green-orange flame, setting many dragon keepers alight, their screams of pain reverberating through the massive chamber.
Vaemond urged Moondancer forward, and Vhagar, sensing this, did its best to turn its head around, allowing the dragon keepers to fasten the chains around its neck due to the distraction.
The dragon keepers on the walkways adjusted the winch and began to pull the chains towards one of the huge tunnels in which the dragons were housed, Vhagar did its best to resist, but with both legs chained and locked the discomfort made it so that the dragon was forced to follow the chains motion towards one of the tunnels, but not before emitting another stream of flame at the dragon keepers.
By the time Vhagar had finally been forced into one of the tunnels and the great Iron door shut with a booming thud, 3 dragon keepers had been burnt alive with a further 8 burnt, one of them so severely he would not make it through the night, though without Moondancer and Narrahs distraction the cost would have been much higher.
In the coming weeks and months, Vhagar would be trained by the Dragonkeepers to respond to Valyrian, and eventually the need for chains would be dispensed with all together, though this would be a long process.
After Vaemond made arrangements for the relatives of the deceased dragon keepers to be compensated for their sacrifice and Moondancer and Narrah to be released as the skies were safe once more, he and Nyel made their way back to the red keep for some well deserved rest.
Midnight
Vaemond was woken from his sleep by a knocking of the door.
Nyel covered herself with the sheets while Vaemond pulled on a robe and made his way to the door through their airy and spacious sleeping apartment, opening it.
Outside the door was Ser Roland Crakehall of the Kingsguard who had the guard that night, as well as a young teenager that Vaemond recognized as one of Samwell Tully's attendants and messengers.
‘’I trust you have a good reason for rousing us at this hour?’’ Vaemond asked the big Kingsguard, not unkindly.
Ser Roland fidgeted with his amulet to the father ‘’I think it best you hear it directly your Grace….the Hand has convened a meeting in the White Sword Tower..’’
‘’Give me a moment to dress.’’ Vaemond said before closing the door and pulling on something more suitable for a council meeting.
‘’What is it Vae?’’ Nyel asked him tiredly.
He ran a hand through her hair and kissed her forehead ‘’Go back to sleep.’’
Following Ser Roland, he made his way through the dimly lit hallways of the Red Keep before stepping out into the cold night air, a wind from Blackwater Bay coming in as they made their way through the courtyard to the nearby White Sword Tower, the residential quarters of the Kingsguard when they were not on duty, its whitewashed stone setting it apart from the surrounding walls and parapets in the moonlight.
Samwell Tully, his hand of the King for four years was seated in the common room along with the other sworn brothers of the Kingsguard in front of a large weirwood table in the shape of a shield, white as bone, all present had grim looks upon their faces, in the center of the table beside the White Book was a small raven scroll, seal broken.
‘’Something has happened.’’ Vaemond said to nooone in particular, taking a seat beside his Hand.
Samwell Tully nodded ‘’Your Grace….it grieves me to say but we received word from the Stormlands…..Lord Commander Corlys was killed in a terrible accident at the tourney, while tilting against one of the local lords household knights he dismounted his foe, but his lance shattered and a shard passed through his gorget….he passed quickly I am told if it is any consolation.’’
The news took Vaemond like a punch to the gut, his hands tightening on the grips of his chair, his body lurching forward as if he were going to be sick.
Corlys Velaryon had been more than just the Lord Commander of Vaemonds kingsguard, but his greatest friend, ally, and confidant.
He had watched Corlys drill at arms since he was a young boy, and on that terrible night on the Sunset Sea when Vaemond had lost his father, it had been Corlys who had swam out to sea to rescue out the prince, if not for him Vaemond would have perished alongside his father.
Further on, it had been Corlys who had accompanied him on the midnight quest to claim Moondancer on the island on Blackwater Rush, Corlys who was the first to swear his sword to Vaemond at Oldtown, Corlys who had fought alongside him during his first battle against the pirates in the straits between Bloodstone and Sunstone. It had been Corlys who was responsible for Vaemonds biggest victory and the rescue of Kings Landing.
The White Sword Tower was so quiet one could hear a pin drop, the roar of the hearthfire in the common room roaring and crackling, Vaemond made his way to his feet unsteadily leaning over the back of his chair.
‘’It is like I have lost my father all over again.’’ Vaemond said, his eyes welling with tears before he angrily wiped them away, the memory of Corlys doing the same to him when he had received his first painful bruise when he began training at arms as a child.
Collecting himself and steadying his voice he let go of the chair.
‘’Everything I have…..my crown….my dragon…my very life I owe to him….everything.’’ He began.
‘’I will see him rewarded……he shall have a funeral worthy of a King….the entire city shall pay him homage before he is sent home to Driftmark to be burned…..before he joins his brother and my father.’’ Vaemond said before turning to Ser Roland Crakehall.
‘’Ser Roland.’’
‘’Your Grace?’’
‘’You shall lead an honor guard of 200 mounted knights to the Stormlands and return his bones here.’’ Vaemond commanded.
‘’It shall be my greatest honor….may the father guide our journey.’’ Ser Roland replied solemnly.
Vaemond then turned to Ser Harold Langward.
‘’Ser Harold……you are the last surviving of my fathers seven original Kingsguard….you have fought at my side in the Stepstones, at Edgerton and Duskendale, on the walls of Greenfield and underneath the walls of this very city….I name you Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.’’ Vaemond said to the Stormlands.
Ser Harold nodded ‘’It would be my privilege to lead these men….I shall see that the Lord Commanders entry in the white book is painted and chronicled.’’
Vaemond nodded, suddenly exhausted as memories of the past ran through his mind as he made his way back to the Red Keep to return to Nyels embrace.
Three Nights Later
The night air was cool on Matarys’s face as he and Lucas Blackwood, Commander of the Gold Cloaks, made their way through the dark streets of Kings Landing from the sept towards Aegon's Hill and the Red Keep.
Matarys was far from a religious man, shunning the whole concept of the gods as nonsense but he had decided to attend a candlelight vigil for the late Lord Commander in the cities sept, one of the nightly services that were planned until Ser Roland returned with the Lord Commanders remains, the man had served his family well and Matarys supposed he could put up with some blabbering and singing in his honor, and despite his nature he found the service rather touching, even growing emotional at the end.
Matarys had come to the sept with a small contingent of guards but there had been a misunderstanding with the changing of the guard and he was left alone following the service, luckily for him however, Ser Lucas Blackwood, commander of the city had offered to escort him back to the Red Keep personally.
‘’His soul has been received by the gods no doubt…..purified and cleansed in their righteous light.’’ Ser Lucas said piously.
‘’If you say so.’’ Matarys responded with a shrug, he was quite fond of Ser Lucas, particularly his kind and charitable treatment and governance of the city, but the man's zealous prattling was something Matarys found hard to stand.
They continued through the dark streets, past taverns and houses, shops and smithies, all empty, even the taverns seemed quiet, in large part due to Ser Lucas’s posting of gold cloaks in everyone of the cities winesinks and taverns to prevent drunken behavior and flesh peddling which were abhorrent in the eyes of the gods, to be sure all these things still continued, but men had learned to be discrete about such things.
Passing past a few dark alleys, they were surprised when a woman, clothes half torn emerged from one, she ran to Ser Lucas’s horse and grabbed his leg.
‘’Good Ser Knight….I am saved….you're with the city watch?’’ She cried out.
‘’I am the Commander of the City Watch my good woman….what has happened.’’ Ser Lucas said, gently disentangling his leg from her grasp.
‘’Rapers….thieves….they attacked me m’lord.’’ The woman said, half sobbing.
‘’Where?’’ Ser Lucas demanded, prompting the woman to point a dirt caked finger down an alleyway.
‘’Your honor shall be avenged my good woman…have no fear of that.’’ Ser Lucas said, wheeling his horse towards the alleyway, with Matarys following hesitantly.
‘’Perhaps you should not follow my prince….you are no fighter….there is a barracks close by where you could ride for reinforcements, I was foolish to not bring my own escort.’’ Ser Lucas said as they slowly rode down the alleyway.
‘’I am a Targaryen prince, I will not abandon you……honor compels that I do my part.’’ Matarys said.
‘’At least take this.’’ Ser Lucas responded, handing Matarys a dirk from his belt.
Eventually they came to a place where it became too narrow to ride their horses so they dismounted and continued on foot.
Ser Lucas drew his sword and led the way, coming to a place where the alleyway opened up in several different directions, at the center of it was a ripped cloth, similar to what the woman had been wearing.
The Commander of the City Watch knelt down to inspect it, it was the last thing he did.
Out of the alleyway came several armed thugs carrying clubs and dirks.
Ser Lucas Blackwood stood up with confusion, readying his longsword to block a strike from a dirty bearded man but he was grabbed from behind by two more men who pinned his arms. The bearded man beat him savagely about the face with a club while the men behind stabbed him several times with their dirks, puncturing his gold mail before releasing him onto the ground to die.
Even as he groaned and his life blood left him, others appeared from the alley ways to strip him of all valuables, his golden mail, coin purse, fine sword, silver amulet to the maiden, he even saw the woman who had led them there taking his boots.
They had scarcely even noticed Matarys who stood in shock, too horrified at what he was watching happen to Ser Lucas to even think about fleeing.
‘’Whos this little piglet?’’ One of the men asked, a driftwood staff in his hands.
‘’Might have to cut ourselves a piece of bacon eh boys?’’ The bearded man asked the others with a laugh, hefting his club, covered in the blood of Ser Lucas.
‘’Please don't……let us leave and you shall be rewarded’’ Matarys said, raising his dagger.
‘’Us?’’ One of them asked in confusion.
‘’Ser Lucas is hurt….let me tend to him…please…he doesn't have long.’’ Matarys begged.
‘’Looks dead to me.’’ One of them said, kicking Lucas in the leg.
The captain of the gold cloaks gave a piteous moan.
‘’He's alive…..see…he's alive…have mercy!’’ Matarys cried out.
‘’So he is.’’ One of the thieves said before walking over, kneeling, and promptly slitting the man's throat, sending dark red blood streaming down the mud alleyway.
Matarys cried out in horror as he watched the scene unfold.
The thieves circled him from all around.
Matarys initially raised his dagger as the thieves advanced upon him but seeing their numbers hesitated.
What's the point He thought to himself, dropping his dagger to the floor.
‘’Do it then.’’ The Prince said.
One of the thieves obliged, striking him straight in the nose with a wooden cudgel, sending a flaming tendril of pain through his face as his nose exploded in a sickening crunch of blood, causing him to fall to his knees.
The first strike was like no pain he had ever felt, the other strikes that assailed him seemingly almost trivial by comparison.
Mother He thought to himself as he attempted to shield himself from the clubs and kicks until a heavy strike in the back of the head turned his world to darkness.
