chapter 145 part 2
Ser Barristan first bowed his head, then left the tent.
Lord Eddard was about to follow him out, but King Robert said, "Ned, you stay."
King Robert picked up a wine jug from the table, poured a cup, and handed it to Lord Eddard.
"Drink."
"I don't drink..."
"Drink it. That's an order from your stupid king."
Lord Eddard helplessly took the cup and took a sip. He frowned; the wine... was so strong it made his eyes sting.
King Robert sat down in his chair and said with a huff, "Damn you, Ned Stark. You and Jon Arryn. I loved you two, and look how you treat me. You or Jon should have been king."
Lord Eddard put down the wine cup, paused, and then said, "Robert, your claim is just. You are the most qualified to sit upon the Iron Throne."
King Robert's voice filled with anger. "I told you to drink, not to talk back. Damn it, since you made me king, at least have the decency to listen when I speak! Ned, look at me. Look what I've become since I became king... By the gods, I'm so fat I can't even fit into my own armor. How did it come to this?!"
"Robert..."
King Robert interrupted, "The king is speaking, so shut your mouth! Ned, I swear to you, I was never more alive than when I was killing men on the battlefield, and I've never been more dead inside than I am now that I have the throne."
After a moment of silence, he added, "Ned, I won't be participating in the melee..."
Robert stood up from his chair, walked over, and clapped Eddard on the shoulder. "Ah... perhaps you're right. I did become a good king after all."
King Robert waited for a moment, and seeing Eddard remain silent, he said angrily, "Damn you, Ned! This is the part where you're supposed to agree with me."
"...You're right."
"Seven Hells!"
King Robert pulled Lord Eddard along by the arm. "Who do you think will be today's champion? You've seen Mace's son, haven't you? Everyone calls him the Knight of Flowers. Anyone would be proud to have a son like that. At the last tourney, he sent the Kingslayer's golden ass tumbling. You should have seen the look on Cersei's face. I laughed until my stomach hurt..."
...
...
The tourney grounds were filled with gleaming armor and tall warhorses draped in gold and silver. The air was abuzz with voices, and the distinct banners of various houses fluttered in the wind... there were the silver eagles of Seagard, Bryce Caron's nightingales on a field, House Redwyne's cluster of grapes, as well as spotted wild boars, red bulls, burning trees, white rams, triple spirals, marsh golden-helms, purple unicorns, dancing maidens, black snakes, twin towers, and great horned owls.
The seven Kingsguard became the center of attention as they passed the stands. All of them were clad in silver armor, their pure white cloaks like fresh snow.
Jaime Lannister, riding side-by-side with Ser Barristan at the very front, was the focal point of that attention.
Jaime also wore a white cloak, but his armor shimmered with gold, and combined with his flowing golden hair, he was truly dazzling.
Behind the Kingsguard were Yohn Royce and others from the Vale. Lord Yohn of Runestone was known as Bronze Yohn. It was said that his bronze armor, thousands of years old, was etched with magical runes that protected the wearer from harm, hence his nickname. His two sons, Ser Andar Royce and Ser Robar Royce, followed behind, their silver-plated armor bearing the same runic engravings as the legendary bronze armor.
Then came the Redwyne twin brothers, Ser Horas Redwyne and Ser Hobber Redwyne, carrying shields emblazoned with a claret-colored cluster of grapes on a blue field.
...
...
Glyn entered the arena with a host of sons and grandsons dispatched by Lord Walder Frey of Riverrun. It was heard that even the old lord's bastard, Martyn Rivers, was among them.
The ninety-year-old Lord Walder, with his many marriages over the years, had nearly thirty legitimate children and countless bastards. It was rumored that his eighth wife was already pregnant.
Glyn pulled on the reins, adjusting his horse's direction. Holding his helmet in one hand, his gaze swept toward the stands... so many beauties.
"Lord Glyn!"
Glyn heard a clear shout. He looked in that direction and saw the two daughters of the Hand of the King.
Arya Stark waved at him. She was, uncharacteristically, wearing a green gown like Sansa's. Glyn guessed that Septa Mordane must have forced her into it.
Glyn's gaze shifted... Tayana Moulton, the niece of the Lord of Maidenpool... Hmm... that slanderer!
Glyn's gaze naturally swept past. If not for Miss Moulton, he wouldn't even have remembered that Maidenpool was an inseparable part of Crackclaw Point... Hmm, Glyn was a simple lord.
He also saw many familiar faces and was nodding in greeting... Suddenly... a stir!
The noble ladies and maidens in the stands all craned their necks, looking in unison in the direction behind Glyn.
The Knight of Flowers had entered!
Ser Loras Tyrell was clad in incomparably magnificent silver armor, its gleam blinding in the sunlight. It was also inlaid with sapphire flower patterns, and the cloak over his shoulders was sewn with hundreds of fresh flowers.
Loras's hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like molten gold. His pure white steed beneath him was draped with a red blanket and white roses. Almost all the women in the stands were stunned by his handsome appearance.
Lord Glyn calmly withdrew his gaze. Jaime was in front, and Loras was behind... sandwiching a 90-pointer between two 100-pointers... He'd have to find out which bastard arranged the entrance order later! Lord Glyn took a light breath. He wasn't angry at all.
He then looked at the motley crew from House Frey beside him, and his mood improved slightly.
...
...
"Oh, he's so beautiful."
When Sansa Stark saw the Knight of Flowers, she felt as if her heart was about to burst.
After Loras, Ser Gregor Clegane, known as The Mountain, rumbled past the spectator stands with the force of a landslide.
Septa Mordane said dismissively, "Compared to the others, Jory looks like a beggar."
Hearing this, Sansa, who had just managed to recover from the Knight of Flowers's beauty, followed Septa Mordane's gaze.
Jory, her father's Captain of the Guard, was clad in gray-blue armor, devoid of any sigil or embellishment. The thin gray cloak on his shoulders looked like a dirty rag.
Sansa pursed her lips and smiled; she had to agree with Septa Mordane's assessment.
Septa Mordane pointed out Lord Jason Mallister in the crowd for Sansa and the others, clad in a blue and purple cloak trimmed with silver and wearing an eagle-winged helmet. She recounted how, years ago at the Trident, he alone had cut down three great lords under Rhaegar.
Sansa's good friend, Jeyne Poole (daughter of Vayon Poole, the steward of Winterfell), grabbed Sansa's wrist upon seeing Lord Beric Dondarrion, who carried a shield emblazoned with a forked lightning bolt and had fiery golden-red hair. She excitedly declared that she would marry that man on the spot.
It was as if they were watching the heroes from a thousand songs leap to life before their eyes, each more dashing than the last.
They also saw many people that even Septa Mordane didn't recognize: sellsword knights from the Fingers, the Reach, and Dorne; freeriders and new squires not mentioned in the songs; and young nobles from great houses but far down the line of succession, or heirs to local lords.
Most of these young men had yet to achieve great renown, but Sansa believed that one day, they would surely make their names famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
(end of chapter)