Blood of Dragons

The final day of Lady Bethany Bracken’s nameday celebration began with the bow. Seven archers came to the line, fittingly enough: Ser Orson Baratheon, Ser Omrys Baratheon, Ser Roland Hunter, Ser Wyllis Reyne, Ser Jon Roxton, Ser Brus Bracken, and Ser Othan Bracken. The field still bore the marks of the previous day’s jousting, though the targets stood far enough from the worst of the churned earth that the archers had less cause to curse the ground than the riders would later.

Ser Orson Baratheon soon proved the man to beat. Ser Roland Hunter and Ser Wyllis Reyne both made fine early showings, and Bloody Brus Bracken did enough to remain in the contest longer than some expected, but as the targets were moved farther and farther downfield, Ser Orson’s aim set him apart. Ser Omrys Baratheon also held well enough to make the final, leaving the last round to the two stags. At the full length of the field, Ser Omrys could not find the mark, while Ser Orson, urged on by his son, closed his eyes and loosed. Two shafts missed, but one struck true, enough to send the commons into cries of wonder for “the blind bowman” and “the Huntsman.” Ser Omrys was awarded the purse of one thousand dragons for second place, while Ser Orson received three thousand dragons for first.

There was little quiet after that. The arrows were gathered, armor was buckled, horses were brought out, and the field filled with men eager for the melee. Among those most watched were Ser Aidan Dayne, the Knight of the Twilight, still wearing his silvered pageant armor and the serene mask of Nymeria; Quentyn Ball, called Fireball; Ser Terrence Toyne of the Kingsguard, bearing Lady Bethany’s favor; and Balian Blackwood, grim in black armor and plainly wroth after the affronts of the previous day. But two knights were noticably absent: Lord Aimery Fell, and Ser Edrick Buckler. There were whispers after claimed that Lord Bracken had been pressed upon to intervene, forcing the Buckler knightnot to take part for fear Aimery the Fell meant him ill and such bloodshed would mar the occasion, and with his withdrawal Fell seemed to also lose interest in the contest.

The first clash was a storm of horses, shields, and blunted steel. Ser Clyve Bracken, who had won much praise in the joust, charged boldly at Ser Jon Roxton, crying for Stone Hedge. Ser Wyllis Reyne sought out Ser Aidan Dayne and landed the first blow, but the Knight of the Twilight soon answered with the sort of force that made plain why he has so often been counted among the realm’s finest. Elsewhere, Ser Mathin Lannister and Ser Ryckon Westerling found one another amid old grievances, while Balian Blackwood joined Ser Roland Hunter and Ser Otho Royce in pressing Fireball.

The melee quickly lost all neat order. Men were driven from the saddle, rose again, and were struck down a second time. Ser Brus Bracken and Ser Omrys Baratheon battered at one another with old fury, until both had tasted the mud. Ser Clyve Bracken avenged his father for a moment by striking down Ser Omrys, only for Balian Blackwood to bring him down in turn. Ser Jon Roxton fought fiercely, felling Ser Clyve, then Ser Osney the Quick (though some have begun to call him the Slow), and later Ser Roland Hunter, before Ser Terrence Toyne struck him down. Ser Roland himself had a strong showing, unhorsing several men before Roxton ended his run.

Ser Aidan Dayne’s course carried him from Wyllis Reyne to Mathin Lannister and then to Ser Terrence Toyne, the Kingsguard knight proving a stern and worthy opponent. Their struggle drew many eyes, the white cloak and the silver mask easy to follow even in the dust and mud. When others pressed in against the Dayne, Ser Terrence turned away from him rather than join an unfair assault, and the Knight of the Twilight answered by meeting the next foe before him. Mathin Lannister fought with cold purpose, but in the end Aidan’s heavy blow brought him down.

Balian Blackwood, meanwhile, endured all that came at him. Fireball cursed him, Brackens came against him, and even Ser Terrence Toyne turned his mace upon him once the field had narrowed. Blackwood answered with the same stubborn strength, and at last struck down the Kingsguard knight. That left only two riders still ahorse: Balian Blackwood and Ser Aidan Dayne.

It was then that the contest turned from melee to something else. Ser Aidan did not strike while Blackwood was fresh from felling Ser Terrence. Instead he opened space and spoke of Lord Nestor Sarsfield, Balian’s sister’s husband, whom Aidan had slain distant Dorne when their duty to their realms set them on oppsoite sides. It was a heavy memory, made more tangled by the present bonds between their houses: Lady Aisling , Aidan’s wife, is of Blackwood blood as well, and watched from the stands as her husband faced her kinsman. Aidan then proposed that they end the contest afoot, man to man, and let the old gods and new decide between them.

Balian accepted. “That sun has set,” he said, “It is time for a new dawn.” Both men dismounted. Aidan removed the Martell mantle he had worn through the melee and draped it over his horse. Then the two came together in the mud, sword against mace, body against body, Blackwood’s expreience and strength against Dayne’s poise and speed. Balian struck first and struck hard, forcing Aidan back a step, but the Knight of the Twilight rallied. After a ringing exchange, Aidan’s bastard sword rose and fell, and Balian Blackwood was driven from his feet.

The crowd roared. Balian lay winded in the mud, then rose slowly, showing every year and every blow of the day. “Well struck, good-nephew,” he said. Aidan answered him in kind, calling him good-uncle and acknowledging the strength of the Blackwoods.

The prizes were then awarded. Lady Bracken rose to give Balian Blackwood two thousand dragons for second place, though Lord Kennoth Bracken’s displeasure was plain enough to many watching. Ser Aidan Dayne, for first place and a tremendous display of arms, received five thousand dragons. The king seemed less troubled by the victory than amused by the Hand’s irritation, while the Dornish contingent had every cause to cheer. Thus the day ended with two stories on every tongue: that a Blackwood had risen high in a Bracken melee, and that the Knight of the Twilight had once more proven himself among the foremost champions of the realm.