Blood of Dragons

Seven days after Queen Naerys asked judgment of gods and men against the slanders spoken by Ser Morgil Hastwyck, the matter came to its answer before Baelor’s half-built sept. The morning began within that unfinished place, where Ser Morgil was seen at prayer beneath scaffolds, patched awnings, and damp stone, attended by brothers of the Band of the Dragon and watched by no small number of lords, ladies, and courtiers. Septon Elwood, who had kept vigil there through the night, called those gathered to prayer with a stern rebuke against idle curiosity, and there were enough candles lit before the Seven that morning to show how little of the city meant to treat the day as ordinary.

From the sept the matter moved into the plaza before it, and there the city had gathered in astonishing number. The open ground below the unfinished marble was hemmed round by gold cloaks with staves and pikes, while thousands pressed behind them, climbing benches, walls, carts, rough-hewn plinths, and even the nearby scaffolding for a better look. King Aegon sat upon the foremost platform with Lord Butterwell near at hand, while Queen Naerys was set apart under guard of her own. Prince Daeron and Princess Mariah were present, as were the princesses Elaena and the greatly pregnant Daena, though Princess Rhaena was said to remain behind at prayer in the royal sept.

Ser Morgil came down from the sept first under escort, to jeers from much of the crowd and to a lesser share of cheers. He was fully armored in the dragon-worked harness which the king had gifted him, but when the time came for arms to be shown, it was seen that he had not chosen sword and shield. Instead a second squire brought forward a poleaxe, long-hafted and cruelly fitted for breaking plate at reach. Prince Aemon Targaryen, the Dragonknight, then came to the field in Kingsguard white with Dark Sister at his side, attended by a white-clad squire and his Sworn Brothers.

The young High Septon then stepped forward to invoke the Seven, declaring that justice would be revealed in what followed. Both men knelt, rose, and armed themselves, and King Aegon gave the order to fight. Queen Naerys was seen at prayer throughout, her hands clasped and her eyes upon her brother.

At the opening, the duel proved far less one-sided than many had expected. Ser Morgil struck first and struck cleanly, and throughout the early exchanges his poleaxe gave him reach enough to trouble even so great a knight as the Dragonknight. Prince Aemon answered in kind with shield and sword together, pressing behind the white wall of his shield and seeking again and again to slip inside the poleaxe’s span. Dark Sister soon found its mark more than once, and yet Ser Morgil endured, yielding ground where he must and blood where he had to, but not his life. By the middle of the fight the watching crowd had gone from coarse delight to the kind of strained silence that only a true, deadly contest can draw.

But the prince’s famed skill, and the deadly sharpness of Dark Sister, would begin to tell. Prince Aemon wounded Ser Morgil in the hip with a deep thrust, and Ser Morgil responded by battering at the prince’s shield until at last the white shield broke under the punishment. Even so, the loss did not save him. Prince Aemon cast the ruined shield aside and came on harder than before, while Ser Morgil, bleeding visibly now and moving haltingly, spent the strength he had left in stubborn and dangerous resistance. None could deny him courage by then.

When next Dark Sister bit deep, Prince Aemon drew back half a pace and offered mercy before all. He commanded Ser Morgil to yield and withdraw his false words against the queen. Those nearest the field, and many farther back besides, took up the cry. But Ser Morgil refused. Whether from pride, desperation, or conviction carried too far, he chose another charge instead. It was his last. Prince Aemon caught him as he came in, dragged him off the failing leg, and drove Dark Sister into the gap between helm and gorget. Ser Morgil fell there before the whole city, and for one heartbeat there was silence before the roar began.

The verdict was plain enough to all. Prince Aemon raised the bloodied blade in salute to Queen Naerys. Her Grace wept openly in relief, while King Aegon rose and saluted his brother’s victory before the crowd. Many among the court were heard to say that the Seven had given their judgment, and that the queen’s innocence and fidelity now stood beyond dispute. Others had more immediate concerns, for in the very wake of the Dragonknight’s victory Princess Daena’s labor began upon the royal platform, and the cry soon went up to make way for the princess. Prince Daeron and Princess Mariah ordered swift aid, Ser Luthor Rivers and the City Watch forced a path through the press, and ladies of the royal household hurried to assist.

Ser Morgil Hastwyck, lately much favored by the king and raised high in the Band of the Dragon, died upon the field rather than recant. His kin by marriage were said to take charge of his body, to see it attended to be silent sisters, with whispers that they thought to have the armor destroyed, or at least stripped of its embellishment and sold. Prince Aemon prevailed for his sister, and Queen Naerys’s honor was upheld before gods and men alike. Yet by the time the crowd began to break apart, the city had already found a second marvel to carry home with it: that on the very day one royal cause was settled in blood, another Targaryen child seemed ready to announce itself into the world.