AN :
Next goal for another extra chapter is 200 power stones.
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.
...
( Tygett Lannister POV )
While no Lord had ever successfully occupied the Northern Coast for long, many had tried, and the ruins of their attempts dotted the landscape. This one had been chosen due to its proximity to the Greystone, which was an easy path for raids into the inland of the region.
...
The keep had been restored to liveable conditions first, then the stables, and now the outer curtain wall was being rebuilt. Rotten old timbers were replaced with fresh lumber, tarred, and plastered over. It was something to keep the men busy during the endless waiting games between Ironborn raids.
It didn't take too long for his nephew to arrive, a red and gold wheelhouse at the head of a wagon train, Tygett raised an eyebrow when he saw that the men- and even a few women- who were driving the wagons were not Lannister men, but rather wore the robes of Septons and Septas. Tygett raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, watching as his nephew clambered out of the wheelhouse, followed by a middle-aged man in a black robe. Callum looked bright and cheery, clad in a red leather jacket with a yellow Lion embroidered on his right breast. "Good afternoon Uncle Tygett!" Callum greeted cheerfully. "It's good to see you again."
"Callum," Tygett replied, not feeling half as jolly as his nephew, he looked the boy up and down. He looked somewhat less girlish than when he'd last seen him, but that was probably just the short hair. The boy in front of him, though a few inches taller than he was two years ago, was still too slender and soft, with no sign of strength in his upper body. Tygett frowned. "I see you've cut your hair."
"Hmm? Oh, yes. I wanted… more freedom of movement." the boy glanced over to the Septons and Septas as he spoke, and Tygett took the opportunity to ask about them.
"It seems you've brought a pilgrimage with you." Tygett smirked, "what are they here for?"
"They've brought thousands of copies of the Seven-Pointed Star." Callum replied, "They're to be distributed to the heads of households for each family on the North Coast. Similar distributions are happening all across the Westerlands right now." the boy smiled. "It's the final product of years of hard work, by me and by thousands of others."
Tygett Narrowed his eyes. "What's what you've been doing instead of practicing your blade is it?" as Callum's smile fell away. Tygett turned his gaze to the older man behind him. "Who's this then."
"Ah, Lord Tygett, my name is Qyburn I am Callum's… healer of sorts." the man gave a small smile. "I was brought along because Callum and Lord Kevan thought I could be of use to you. I possess a citadel education in healing"
"A Maester eh?" That was actually not a bad idea. Tygett had no Maester of his own at present. He had been relying on local wise-women and farmers who knew how to treat animals to see to his men's wounds when they occurred. Having an actual educated man with his company would be valuable. "Very well, you'll do enough to earn your keep I trust." Tygett turned to one of his few- far too few- knights. "Ser Gerold, see to it that Qyburn here is provided with lodging and provision." he paused for a moment. "The Septons and Septas too, while they stay here."
As the man rushed to his newly assigned duties, Tygett turned on his heel. "Callum, follow me for a moment."
"Yes, Uncle." Callum hurried behind him as he walked back into the keep. Tygett didn't bother looking back, instead moving to look at the map on the wall. He placed his hands behind his back, his eyes tracing the contours of the coast.
"Do you know what this is Callum?" Tygett asked, his mouth set in a thin, firm line.
"It looks like a map of the North Coast," Callum replied. "I suppose the pins are… Ironborn raids?"
"This is the land I am charged with protecting as Lord Tempor," Tygett said firmly. "Protecting and developing as per your father's instructions. There are fifty-thousand smallfolk in the lands on this map, and it is my duty to protect them from the twenty or so Ironborn crews that have been marauding their shores, my shores. This is my highest responsibility, and it is one that requires the whole of my effort." Tygett glanced over at his nephew to make sure that he was listening. "I, frankly, do not have time to waste on squiring you. If I was not ordered to by Tywin, I would not be doing so at all. Not because I dislike you, but because other tasks demand my greater attention." Callum looked at him with a bit of a frown, seeming to think about his words. Strange, most young boys would be spitting fire at this sort of explanation, the indication they weren't good enough, but Callum just seemed to swallow it like a sour lemon. That hadn't been what Tygett intended at all. He wanted to see the fire in his nephew's eyes.
"I… suppose I can understand that Uncle," Callum replied. "I promise I'll avoid any foolishness or anything that would get in the way of your duties."
"Tch." Tygett rounded on him. He was going to need to turn the heat up a little more. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Callum. I was a squire once, I know the mischief you'll no doubt be up to." Tygett glared. "Your Uncle Kevan tells me you've skipped on practice, fallen behind other boys your age in your martial pursuits." Tygett leaned over Callum, forcing the boy to look upwards to meet his eyes. "There will be none of that here. You will sweat and bleed and wish you were dead until you have reached an acceptable level of skill on the battlefield."
Callum's frown deepened as he looked up at him, and he nodded shortly, though Tygett could tell he was starting to get shaken. "Of course, Uncle. I've accepted that before I came."
"Have you now?" Tygett asked, "Have you really? There are a hundred young men outside, all of them from the North Coast, all of them riding to fight off the Ironborn. Hedge knights and the sons of Yeoman, fishermen, and farmers. Every last one of them is fighting to protect their land, the same way I am." Tygett turned back to the map. "Every one of them is filled with fire and honor, they want battle and blood to win their revenge against the Ironborn. You have no such fire." Tygett said. "You have no such heat, not that I can see."
"Is that really necessary to be a knight?" Callum asked, with an odd tone in his voice.
"To be a knight? No, all that takes is a vow." Tygett shook his head. "But to be a warrior? Yes, a man must have a fire. And Tywin wouldn't send you to squire with me if he didn't want you to be a warrior." Tygett sighed, turning back to his nephew. "You're already familiar with the maintenance of armor, weapons and the like I assume?"
"Yes." Callum nodded.
"Good, as my squire you'll be responsible for keeping mine in good condition, along with whatever other tasks I order you to do. But the rest of your time will be spent in the yard." Tygett looked down at his nephew. The boy who hadn't spoken a word in anger yet, who didn't show a hint of aggression or passion for battle. A poor fit for a warrior, at least as he was. "First, we've got to put some muscle on your bones. Then we'll see if you can't find that fire."
"Yes, Uncle." Callum nodded, looking a bit grim, but still not angry, annoyingly.
Tygett frowned as he turned back towards the map.
Tywin always gave him the most troublesome jobs.
...
Chronicle of the Targaryen Dynasty in the Seven Kingdoms
Maester Willem
278 AC - Sixteenth day of Tenth Moon
Queen Rhaella Targaryen falls sick with an unknown illness, King Aerys is distraught and begins to hold a vigil by her side, avoiding any food or drink. The King orders all the people of King's Landing to pray to the Seven for her recovery. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Valia withdraw to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys Targaryen on the King's Orders, to remove themselves in case the sickness spreads. These fears are confirmed as Lord Steffon Baratheon becomes sick with a similar ailment at court.
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