Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods - Chapter 148: A Debt to Repay (II)
(Soundtrack Chapter: Tom Day – Who We Want To Be)
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POV: The Father of the First Man
Heart-Tree.
After war plans were drawn up …
Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark turned their backs to the face carved into the trunk of the Weirwood-Tree.
The tree stood atop a small hill called ‘Forgotten Ancestors’.
Hundreds arranged themselves in the small Godswood located less than half a mile from the city walls.
All the present members of House Tallhart in Barrowton were lined up there, waiting anxiously and proudly for the long-awaited moment.
Helman held his left hand on Benfred’s chest, while with his right, he gripped tightly the arm of his wife Myra, who was as intent as he was on lovingly holding one of the twins in her hands.
Leobald would never have forgiven him for not having the remaining family members participate… His brother had agreed, despite himself, to take on the role of castellan and defender of Torrhen’s Square entrusted to him on the condition that he, Berena and Elminster could attend the tournament. Where his nephew, for the first time in a thousand years, would be honoured in the eyes of the World with the title of Green Knight.
Helman and Barbrey had curated a splendid Godswood in the Silk Road in anticipation of this historical event, which was to take place after the grand melee, but it didn’t matter now…
Helman had already sent a dispatch to the ships waiting at the river to prepare to set sail at any time. The next long-awaited event was to take place at Torrhen’s Square…
As his son often sang:
[A good plan is only if it can effectively mould itself to the contingencies and obstacles that will separate the arduous path from the goal.]
Before long, that minute, uncluttered and simple Godswood tended by the common folk of the Barrowlands would become famous throughout Westeros…
Helman noted the absence of a few key elements.
“Pss… Master Zick, what are you doing back there? Move over here next to us, quickly. You three too! What are you doing there in the second row? Peter, Ronan, Brywen stand here next to your Lady… that’s an order!” Ser Helman whispered, spurring the four figures to do as requested.
Lady Barbrey and Lord Jorah also joined in the event… The soon-to-be, most powerful and wealthiest Lady in Westeros did not seem to mind interrupting ‘the bedding ceremony’ with her husband for a duel with a particular outcome. Still, she did not seem to want to miss the happy event planned for years.
Ser Helman nodded to the brother and sister of the Green Council. All the secret Green Knights and their King, whom they had sworn in blood and eternal magic loyalty six moons before, were present.
“You scoundrels with no manners! And you dare to call yourselves Knights too!
Make way for a poor, low, old noble lady!” The Queen of Thorns seemed to dislike her place in the third row, but there was no time for distractions. The King kicked off the ceremony as soon as most Northern Nobles took their positions.
“For many months, my faithful councillors and I were plagued by debates, leaving essential questions without valid answers!
The most difficult among them was ‘How?’ How could the Crown reward its loyal and faithful subjects in the North? How could the Kings and Gods reward the Heroes of Winterfell?!” Robert began pointing and calling loudly to many nobles present.
“Barrowton!… Last Hearth!… Deepwood Motte!… Dreadfort!… Karhold! Greywater Tower!… Finger of Silica! Square of Torrhen and all the deserving and Noble Houses of the North who fought with ‘Honour’, ‘Courage’ and ‘Valour’ in the Rebellion!!!
… A Rebellion that, fortunately, lasted a handful of moons compared to years of horrific suffering foreseen through the actions of thousands of frost-hardened Heroes and Loyalty to their land, their Lord, their King and their Gods!”
“Ayeee!!!” The noble lords and ladies of the North roared with satisfaction, washing away some of the resentment and hatred towards the Crown accumulated because of the Queen siding with the foreign Braavosians. Myra and her children also joined the chorus.
‘Robert Baratheon knows his stuff…’ Thought the Master of Torrhen’s Square with modest surprise.
Various faults could be pinned on King Stags, but Leadership Charisma and oratorical skill were not among them.
“By virtue of this…
On the first night of the new decade, the Crown will attempt to repay part of this enormous debt of gratitude by bestowing upon said heroes: Glory, Honour, and Immortality!” Robert focused his attention on the still eleven-year-old boy in front of him.
“Duncan Tallhart… from the age of only five, you began decorating yourself with deeds worthy of knighthood, acts too numerous to list them all…
In one of them, you successfully led an impossible suicide mission…” Myra dug her nails into his flesh, whispering with a snarl:
“What ‘Suicide Mission’ is he talking about?”
“Ssh!… Not now, my beloved. The King is still on his word…” That little justification certainly wouldn’t save him for long. The pain in his arm was proof of that.
“… I ungracefully offered you the chance to renounce the Gods you believed in, hoping to fold your deeds with merit you did not ask for, refusing my gift. But tonight… you will have no valid excuse to reject me again, young Hero of the North. Nor will you be given a chance to do so…
Kneel before your Lord, your King and your Old Gods, Duncan of House Tallhart.” Helman’s pride, in all its glory, did as commanded.
Eddard Stark lent the King the huge ceremonial Valyrian Steel broadsword named {Ice}; Robert slowly unsheathed the sword from its scabbard with both hands, then lifted the point upwards with the flat of the palm-thick blade covering almost his entire face.
Before the Andal’s invasion, when iron was still regarded by many Sons of the Forest and First Men as the ‘Poison of Magicians’, only Green Knights blessed in their appointment by Dragon Steel could wield weapons other than Bronze without being cursed by Kings and Old Gods.
The King lowered the steel onto Duncan’s right shoulder, uttering words that would be remembered in the history books…
“In the name of Bronze, I command you to stand against Iron.
In the name of Fire, I command you to extinguish Frost.
In the name of Light, I command you to dispel Darkness.
In the name of Life, I command you to resist Death.
It is your oath, Knight…”
Robert lightly furrowed a portion of the white trunk with the edge of his blade until some red sap gushed out to impregnate the sword with Old Gods’ blood.
“So that you may always remember it.” Duncan offered the palm of his open hand and allowed the Steel of Valyria to scratch at the skin to mingle blood and sap.
“Do you swear by your blood and the blood of the Old Gods that, from now on, for the rest of your days, you will defend the Beauty of this world from Iron, Cold, Darkness and Death?”
The King asked, turning the tip of his blade to the ground after touching Duncan’s shoulders with steel four times…
“I swear it by the Old Gods.
I swear it by my blood and by the blood of my ancestors.
I swear it by Bronze and Iron,
Fire and Ice,
Light and Darkness,
Life and Death.
I swear by Love, and I swear by Magic.
I will defend the Beauty of this world. Now and Always.”
*… Now and Always… You have sworn it… *
Herman heard it again… He heard a whisper coming from the tree. It was not a trick of his son… No. It was a faint tone of mixed voices mixed with a gust of wind and leaves crunching. It was not the first time he seemed to hear them…
The King of the North turned back for a moment, and many other Green Knights heard the same voices.
Welk Green Oak approached his son, dipped three fingers into the life-red dye gushing from Duncan’s fist, and then anointed his forehead with a spiral symbol.
On the island of a thousand faces, the boy had already been recognised as a Knight in the eyes of the gods, but not yet by men… So now the ritual was complete.
Helman felt his beloved’s hand loosen and looked at Myra with shining eyes full of love, beauty and magic just before he heard…
“Arise, Ser Duncan Tallhart.
Protector of the First Men, Servant of the Old Gods, and Defender of Beauty.
…First Green Knight of the Seven Kingdoms!”
End POV.
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POV: Abel the Bard
Tallhart galley along the vein of Lake Torrhen, less than a day’s course from Torrhen’s Square.
Year 290, the third day of the first moon.
About two days after the return of the Age of the Green Knights was proclaimed by royal edict…
The crescent moon was enchanting and adorned with a beautiful starry sky. Before departure, Barrowton received the citadel’s white raven… Summer had officially arrived.
The cool night air of the Tallhart lands was indeed pleasant. Too cold to be without fur but warm enough to breathe it in at the top of one’s lungs.
Abel prepared to tune his lute and exchange information with the percussionist.
The bard did not honestly know what to communicate to the witch of Asshai and her two fellow sorcerers.
The three enchanters were to provide a show of light, magic and stage effects for the one dancing couple. Abel only gave a small silent signal of uncertainty to the masked woman, and she replied with:
“Fear not, ‘Abel the Bard’. Singing and music are the specialities of the East… We will know how to follow your notes.” That Witch was creepy!
Every time the masked woman uttered ‘his name’, the poor Bard from the North felt a shiver down his spine.
‘Can she read my thoughts?’ Thought the cautious Bard, pondering that, in extreme cases, ‘fresh water’ from the Torrhen’s River was not so lethal.
‘Mr Abel! Ah! Fortunately, there you are.” The northern portent did not wait for the musician servant to join him.
“Honourable Ser Duncan, how can this bard be useful to you?” Abel made a slight bow to the figure who had insisted and equally paid for the celebrated and promising Barrowton musician, the author of ‘The Icy Bronze Bear on Fire’, to play and compose for him on this short journey.
Abel did not know exactly ‘why’ the entire Tallhart family and their escort were so urgent to return to Torrhen’s Square with the tournament so close.
Perhaps some threat within the borders of their lands required the urgent presence of all the generals of the Tallharts’ armed forces…
Could it be the attacks of the Wildlings thirsting for blood and human flesh? Possible but not so likely…
If those bands of cannibals had chosen to avoid a face-off with less than a hundred Rangers, the choice to attack the most powerful and fearsome new Household in the North did not seem such a coherent fallback choice.
“Changing the agreed repertoire at the last minute! I know, I know it’s shocking and hard news, but it’s absolutely necessary.” Promulgated the young Green Knight dressed in studded leather and silk armour rather than traditional noble velvet dance robes.
“Nothing will be too arduous or disruptive in matters musical for Abel the Bard, milord.
What desires do you need to be fulfilled?” Abel.
“After an unexpected exchange of admissions of guilt on the part of both of us, my lady and I have determined that the typical dance of southern nobility is not for us…
Let’s cancel the whole repertoire and change it to tribal ceremonial music bases without pre-battle words… Or else! Something romantic and melancholic but at the same time hopeful… Or! Something to remind a warrior in whose name he is about to go to war…
Or… emm, well, I can’t think of any other examples now.” Explained the boy with indecision and embarrassment, scratching his head.
The man really didn’t know what judgment to make to express the archaic mystery named Duncan Tallhart.
On the one hand, Bloody Snow displayed icy cunning, monstrous fortitude, charisma and fame enough to be named as the next Ruler of the North… as well as unparalleled fighting prowess; on the other hand… the boy exhibited flashes of lucid dementia, stupidity and ridiculous teenage clumsiness.
Less than two days ago, Abel had witnessed a headstrong Bloody Snow publicly bring the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to her knees by sheer force of words and wit and subsequently crush a skilled swordsman of Braavos in a deadly duel.
And now, said individual trembled and gasped over a simple dance with a lady maiden of the North…
“So, milord… You and Lady Dacey will not dance?” the question was more than justified.
“Yes and no, Mr Abel. It will be more of a slow training fight to a musical foundation. A fighting dance! There, that sounds like a good compromise to me… So? Can something be done?” His employer asked pleadingly.
“But of course, Ser. I know three Free Folk ballads suitable for the occasion. We will slow down the metrics, and I will lengthen the notes to fit the musical base to the movements.” Replied Abel with a smile and a bow, gaining confirmation from the percussionist and flautist.
“Perfect! One hundred additional Silver Moons to each of you for the inconvenience! And two hundred others to you, Master Bard, for the brilliant rescue!
Lady Quaithe! I need all the arts and knowledge of Carcosa!” The boy ran towards the spellcasters, not even allowing time for the trio of musicians to process the happy news.
Two… three… Abel counted ‘four’ armed soldiers standing guard on the ship’s winch.
The crew members knew their way around an armed confrontation, but they were focused on their job as sailors and far enough away from the small dance floor set up at the front of the Galea.
‘No… I went down south to gather intelligence, not to spill blood.
Assuming and not conceding that I have even a chance of succeeding in this folly, what would happen after the fall by the assassination of the Hero of the North, the First Green Knight of the Seven Kingdoms?’ The Bard did not even try to feel the thin blade concealed in his sleeve.
‘I would unleash the eternal fury of half a continent, bringing nothing but death, suffering and resentment towards my people…
Tonight, and for the following nights to come, I will be Abel the Bard,’ thought the adventurous but cautious member of the Free Folk as he made his firm decision.
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A few minutes later…
The Bear Maiden entered in both hands in leather and chain mail, mace and shield. The lutenist had to admit it. This girl had been blessed with an enviable wild charm that few Spear Wives possessed.
Hundreds of boys north of The Wall would have gladly risked having their throats ripped out in an attempt to steal her.
‘Shield and Mace won’t be needed, Dacey. We will have other types of weapons…” The sorcerers seized the signal and worked their magic.
The shadows came to life and slid between the wooden planks like streams of water until they reached the boy’s hand and gave shape to a long sword…
The sword of black smoke began to absorb sparks of light from the sky until it gave a stellar sword.
It was a simply incredible sight.
‘Beautiful…’ mumbled the enchanted girl. Lady Dacey dropped her mace and shield to the ground.
This time, the masked witch performed the enchantment herself.
The moonlight was reflected back at the young Northern lady, giving the probable bride-to-be of the Green Knight a weapon and shield made of pure silver light.
“Do not think of their non-existent weight and follow my movements.” Duncan cast an assenting glance towards the Bard.
The lutenist and conductor were happy to live up to his commitment. All members of the musical trio strongly desired to give the two lovers a performance worthy of their love.
Mance Raider… The Former Brother of the Night’s Watch, one of the current five Kings-Beyond-The-Wall, firmly positioned his faithful lute-mate and started the dancing…
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{Note Author: For those who had only seen the GOT TV series and not read the books, Mance Raider in ASOIAF is (in the books he still lives) a much… much more badass character than in the series.
Just mentioning a few exploits:
-Mance has climbed The Wall alone dozens of times.
-He defeated three rival Kings Beyond The Wall in battle.
– He beat the shit out of Jon Snow in a sparring match.
-He sneaked into Winterfell alone twice as a Bard named Abel (Short for Bael, a famous Bard-Beyond-the-Wall of legends).
Once during King Robert’s visit to the North to recruit Ned as Hand of The King to gather information about the North to assess a possible invasion.
And the second while attempting to rescue Arya Stark ( Jeyne Poole) from the clutches of the Boltons…
With all due respect to the actor chosen by the Directors for the role of that character, in the books, Mance was something else entirely…}
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End Part II
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