The yard rang loud in steel and shouts.
Lady Arywn watched as the men came to clash, the strike should have been her champion's, Ser Calen was a man familiar with war, a man who had survived two of them.
He had trained all her sons in the ways of the sword and she knew none of them truly outdid their master, they were talented but not enough.
The blade came from a tall arm, she had thought the boy would cave in on the first swing but he met the sword head on, the shield taking the edge as the boy moved swiftly around Ser Calen, like a river over boulders.
"The lad knows his sword." Her son said in a grumbled tone, it was no secret among Old Oak that her sons shared a bitter rivalry, it began since Arlyn had beaten Talen bloody on the yard, and Talen returned the debt four moons later, he was seven then and bested Arlyn, his elder by three namedays, he had since grown wroth of his brother.
While her sweet boy was talented in the arts of a warrior, her eldest had the court's favour, as the heir, he had his sway, even her attempts to dismiss the old rivalry between the siblings had not taken fruit, as such she had to place her youngest on an unspoken exile across the Narrow Sea.
As a second son, it came without saying that he had to find his own glory and his own honor.
It broke her heart, whatever was left of it, into pieces when she received news of her sweet boy's death.
Her sweet summer boy drowned in the sea.
How cruel must the Gods be.
Then came the boy, with a parchment in his hand and carrying words of still wounds, she was barely recovering from.
The cup shattered against the wooden boards as Arywn stood up in haste, his hands levied against the rails as he leaned forward.
She looked up from her trance and noticed something she had missed before.
There was silence.
The smallfolks and yardhands have gone quiet as well as everyone else.
She looked over at the yard and stood up in a sudden.
Ser Calen stood still and the shield had been broken, it laid across the ground as two edged pieces of wood and steel, it was clear who had won but why the silence, she thought.
Then Ser Calen took a step back as in a wary stance, his sword still raised, then she saw it as he turned his body sideways.
A gush of red was spread across his torso, a slim and long cut was running through from his neck to waist, it was not deep enough to kill but it would have been if it was but a bit more.
"How?" Was all she was able to say.
—------
He had seen it clearly.
From that moment, Ser Calen charged forward with his yell and his sword.
The green boy pretending to be a knight had muttered something about the Gods and came ahead with his shield to meet Ser Calen.
All he could do was scoff at the words and drink his wine in sour, he had wanted to challenge the boy himself, it did not matter whether he truly was a knight or he wasn't, but he wanted to do it as a final rite against his brother, but his lady mother had stopped him.
'A heir should not be fighting in a trial, with a boy or not,' She said.
But it seemed it was a wise choice, the boy while not getting Ser Calen anyway, he met him blow against blow, the swords connected at every turn the old knight tried to push him.
It would have been a tiresome affair if I had fought, he thought.
The boy was by no means winning but he held his ground. It was clear Ser Calen was going to end it but the boy seemed agile like a cat, pulling back each time the old knight had a clean swing against him, pouncing over the yard back and forth and the knight was growing furious against it.
It did seem clear enough then.
"The lad knows his sword." He muttered, and he really did know, while it may seem like a coward's move to the smallfolk, from keeping himself away from a blade and refusing to strike head on, the boy had not been cut once since the trial began, not that there is a lack of cuts on his body, he showed his bare body clean as he ducked under Ser Calen and tried to make space between them.
His entire torso was riddled with scars like grass on a field, one above the other, they ran jagged, crooked and cruel.
"Stop this farce and fight me like a man!" Ser Calen yelled as he charged ahead like a roaring bull, his swings now lacking any grace and his aim blinded with rage.
He crouched slightly, his shield arm raised forward to take the hit and his sword placed close to parry if it came from the side.
It seemed the old knight had noticed it too as he swifted his blade and came for his head, in an attempt to end it over.
It was quick play and it did not yield any results.
He had never seen anything quite like it, the boy had knelt ahead and used his knees to twirl under Ser Calen, ducking the blade entirely and in a swift motion, striking his feet with the head of the shield.
The old man groaned but it did not stop him from retaliating, he brought the blade down again and the boy didn't give in either as he twirled back once more.
This time though the lad had something else in his mind as he spined further back and in the same motion, used the speed to throw away the shield towards Ser Calen.
The gasps were audible even from the stands as they witnessed the young lad throw away his shield like it was a piece of wood, aimed for the knight's head.
Calen's eyes widened as he noticed it and instinctively struck it down midair and it seemed the shield had it's fill as it gave away, breaking apart into pieces.
But the lad had used the moment well, the knight's eyes immediately searched for his foe but he had moved in an instant.
The boy jumped up the moment the shield blinded him for the old knight and had pushed himself forward in rush.
The blade came down like a lightning amidst a storm, it was a bold move, he had sacrificed his defenses for a moment of strike, a very bold move and it came to be.
He rose from his seat as he saw it all happen.
The old knight was cleaved open from the neck to waist, a long cut across his chest.
He spun once more with the blade landed, that would have been it for Ser Calen, if it connected his bowl would have spilled out and he would have died right there but the years of experience at war had given in a second to bring back his wits.
The knight stepped back just in time to save his own life.
"How?" His mother asked.
"He threw away his-." He didn't get to finish his words as the crowd roared once again.
He rushed forward with nothing to defend him, he had no other move, the older knight was now wary and watching but that seemed to be a mistake as he took too long to react and the boy had swiped his feet from below.
Calen went down, his big body hitting the ground in a loud thud, he tried to get up but it was over already.
The boy had a foot over his sword and his sword over his neck.
"Yield… Ser."
It was no question but a command.
The master-at-arms seemed rather filled in fury from the way his fingers clutched the golden sands of the yard, he valued his honor it seemed but clearly not enough to forego his life.
"Yield."