Chapter 12
MATARYS TARGARYEN
The burly man led them inside the tent and offered them water as Matarys rested his shoulders from carrying Dunk, the lunk. The man was heavy as an ox, and was sleeping like one as well, when Tanselle brought him a cup of water.
"Thank you," Matarys said, and he was forced to look up at her, which was rather strange.
"You truly are too tall," and the words slipped out of his mouth, and he saw her still and he quickly realised his mistake.
"I meant no offence..." and she shook her head.
"I would never dare take offence from a Prince, your grace," she said, as she sat down.
"I know not if Ser Duncan has mentioned it already, but I am Tanselle," and he smiled.
"He has," he said, looking towards the slumbering man, as Egg sat beside him.
"She is really tall. Even kids back home called her Tanselle Too Tall," and her uncle was repairing the puppets in the back, and he leaned closer.
"What brings you here, my Prince?" and he had met the group, and most of them were blood related, and made gold by putting on shows at tournies and such.
"What can we do for you, my Prince?" she asked, and he shook his head.
"We are here for the shield," Aegon cut in, and she nodded.
"I am just giving it the final touches. I shall have it ready by the morrow," she answered, and he saw it lying in the corner, with some layers of paint drying in it. The shield was old and torn up.
It could break easily, and if Duncan were to ride into the tourney with it, he would be at a disadvantage.
"Could you get it repaired?" he asked, and she seemed surprised by the offer.
"I could. I know a smith in the market," her uncle added, and he reached for his pouch and took out a few gold dragons and put them on the table.
"Have him repair it," and she nodded.
"And tell this idiot that it comes from you," and she blushed at his offer, and Aegon kicked him in the leg.
"What?" he said, and Tanselle noticed it, but did not speak up.
"It is too much, your grace," her uncle said, and Matarys waved him away.
"Consider this a payment for being such gracious hosts," and he had taken enough of their time.
"Thank you for your kindness," and with that, he tried to have Dunk on his shoulder again, but he was simply too heavy.
"Let me help," Tanselle came, and together he was on his feet again, and Matarys could drag him to his tree now.
"I heard your tale," she added, as he was about to walk away, and he was surprised.
"In the Baratheon tent," she added.
"I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I was standing outside, and so I heard it all," and he nodded.
"All of us here have lost families to the Vulture King. We are grateful to you, your grace. For what you have done," and he smiled.
"It was only my duty," he answered.
"We would write a show for you, if you would let us, my Prince," and he shrugged.
"You can do as you like, Lady Tanselle," he gave her his blessing, and then he turned towards her uncle.
"If anyone gives you trouble, you can use my name," and his eyes widened.
"You are a very kind man, your grace. Very kind," and this was as good as an endorsement he could give them.
"If you are ever in the capital, seek me out. I could have some work for you," and with that, he headed towards the entrance, yet stopped.
"And my lady, you are indeed too tall," he reminded her, but then pointed towards the man in his arm.
"But not for him...."
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AEGON TARGARYEN
The Dance continued for days ahead, and it was only their luck that Ser Duncan did not catch them in their lie. His cousin would sneak him in and out of the castle for his duties, and even outside the castle him and Ser Duncan had struck up quite a friendship, though that was not a surprise.
Matarys had always been quick at making friends, and the friendship served Ser Duncan well. Knight, he may be, but he lacked much of the knowledge and training needed to live the life of a Hedge Knight.
Matarys would teach him customs, and traditions. But not just that. He would also help him deal with his heart, and Aegon could say without any doubt that his brother would make a better matchmaker than half the ladies at court.
Ser Duncan remained a lunk, but with his cousin's guiding hand, he was getting better. He suspected that she knew of his real identity as well, though she refused to say anything, much to his relief.
Still, the days passed quickly, and soon enough it was time for the tourney to begin. The first day was reserved for famed knights and lords of high birth, and so Ser Duncan was spared for the day.
Aegon had slipped out of the castle, and his size and status offered him much advantage, for in the grand scheme of things, he was as inconsequential as a Prince. He joined Ser Duncan in the stands as the five challengers took their place, each wearing the Lady's favor.
His own cousin was no different, and his armor had been polished and repaired, and yet it did not glisten. The metal of it was special, and ate away all the light to give him a rather intimidating look.
It had no colors, and yet it was no less beautiful. Lady Gwin sat beside her father, and Prince Baelor would sit in the centre, as the herald would announce the challengers, and as per tradition, the right of the first draw went to the knight of the noblest birth.
"AND NOW FOR THE FIRST CHALLENGER!" and the small doors at the side opened up, as a rider rode forth into the tourney grounds, and all it took was a single glance for him to recognise the person.
"Shit," and the armor was slightly different than Matarys's, and the helmet was ornate, and was shaped like a dragon's face. Teeth came out of the plate, as the rider came and stood infront of the platform.
"PRINCE AERION BRIGHTFLAME!" and that was the name he had chosen for himself.
"Look," Ser Duncan called out as he pointed towards the pavilions.
"Prince Matarys is already readying his horse and armor," and it was true, and strange. But not wrong.
"The two of them have quite a rivalry. Prince Matarys knows that Aerion will choose him," and he did not ask him how he knew all that, as Aerion gave a nod to their uncle and then began to walk by all of the pavilions.
He offered them not a single glance until he came across their cousin's pavilion.
"It is good that you are ready," Aegon heard his whisper, before their words were muffled by the herald and the crowd's screams.
"AND FOR HIS FIRST CHALLENGE HE CHOOSES PRINCE MATARYS TARGARYEN!" and the people went wild, for it was not every day you were able to witness two Princes going at one another.
In the end, Aerion rode to one side of the riding lane, as Matarys mounted his own horse. They shut their visors and reached for their lances, and everyone held in their breath as their horses whizzed past one another, as Aerion pulled out of the tilt.
"COWARD!" "FIGHT!"
The people roared as they insulted his brother, yet he felt no sympathy.
"He read it," Ser Duncan noted.
"Prince Matarys read his intentions," and Aegon nodded.
"He did," and it was why his horse did not slip, as he simply rode to the opposite corner, adjusted his lance, and began riding forward for the second tilt.
Aerion followed soon, and Matarys had the advantage. He had been the first to turn his horse, and so he had more speed, and Aerion saw that.
"He is too close to the wall," Ser Duncan noticed, and Aegon understood the plan.
"He wants to trip him," and that was both shameful and disgraceful, yet few would fault a Prince. And just as Ser Duncan had predicted, Aerion tilted himself slightly and pushed his lance towards the ground.
Yet his cousin pulled on the reins of his horse, which jumped forward at the last minute and foiled his brother's plot.
"YEAAAAH!" and even Aegon could not help but cheer, as the small folk went wild, in both celebration and disgust.
Still, the jump slowed him down slightly as Matarys rode to the end of the lane once more as Lord Baratheon shouted from the stands at the top of his voice.
"GO RUN TO YOUR MOTHER'S TEAT IF YOU CAN'T FIGHT LIKE A MAN!" and the crowd roared with him, as the two of them rode at once, another for the third tilt.
This time Aerion did not pull out, and his lance slid off of Matarys's shield, while Matarys's lance broke as he hit Aerion's shield hard.
"CRACK!"
"WOAHHH!" "YEAHHHHH!"
And Aerion was pushed slightly, yet he clung onto the reins for dear life, even as his lance fell to the ground. They all waited for him to fall, but in the end, he was able to steady himself somehow, and Matarys could take advantage of this.
"He is waiting," Ser Duncan said, and Aegon turned towards the other side of the lane, where Matarys stood ready with horse in hand, and he could have ridden forward, but he was waiting for Aerion to get himself settled.
"As a true knight should," Ser Duncan added, and Aerion grabbed his lance, and then the two began riding at once, and this was the fourth tilt, and they rode hard and fast.
"He is too low," Ser Duncan whispered, and he was right, as Aerion tried to hit Matarys's horse, but in a grand display of his skill, Matarys shifted in his saddle and, rather than aiming for Aerion's lance.
"AGGHHHH!" Aerion screamed as his lance flew back through the air, and the surprise shock of it all was enough to push him off his saddle.
"AND WE HAVE OUR VICTOR!" and the sable boys rushed forward to settle Aerion's horse, as his brother pushed himself off of the ground, while cradling his bruised hand.
His cousin stood at the end of the lane waiting for the final decision.
"BOOOO!" "SHAME!" "GO AWAY!" and Aerion was humiliated, and he could continue the match with a melee, but he took off his helm, and threw it into the ground as he walked away.
"AND THE PRINCE WILL NOT CONTINUE WITH THE MELEE!"
"PRINCE MATARYS WINS THE FIRST BOUT!" and the people roared, and clapped, and even Ser Duncan hollered as he made his round as the victor, and now with the challenge finished, the other challengers began to walk out one by one.
Ser Tybolt defeated Ser Androw Ashford in six tilts and replaced him as champion. Lord Leo Tyrell defeated Ser Robyn Rysling in four tilts, and many other knights clashed against one another, yet only one of the challengers stood unchallenged.
Matarys.
"They are avoiding him," Ser Duncan noticed, and that much was obvious.
"They fear him," Aegon added, and proud and cruel as he was, Aerion was not a bad rider, and he had employed all the tricks to defeat him, and yet still he had fallen to him.
"After that bout against Aerion, only a fool would dare to challenge him now," and so the bouts continued, and just as the field dried down, the herald made his announcement.
"AND NOW FOR THE FINAL BOUT WE HAVE LORD LYONEL BARATHEON AS THE CHALLENGER!" and the Lord of the Storm's End walked into the field with his armor, as he paid his respects to the Lord of the castle, and the Prince before he made his way to the champions' pavilions.
A few banners had already changed colors, and this was but the first day of the festivities. Tomorrow, knights of lesser renown and simpler heritage would be allowed to take the field.
Still, the Laughing Storm was a daunting figure, and his prowess as a knight was no joke. His opponent would have a hard time facing him, and when he stopped his horse at his cousins' pavilion, the crowd roared in joy and expectation, for they knew that they were about to get quite a spectacle.
"AND HE CHOOSES PRINCE MATARYS TARGARYEN AS HIS CHALLENGER!"
"This will be an interesting match...."
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