chapter 147 part 1
Chapter 147: Hunter and Prey (End)
Lord Eddard shouted urgently, "Stop him!"
Everyone was yelling and screaming, and Lord Eddard's voice was lost in the surrounding uproar.
Sansa's small hands clutched her father's arm tightly, her face streaked with tears as she pleaded, "Father, please, save him!"
...
The Mountain gripped his greatsword with both hands and swung with all his might at the Knight of Flowers' chest. With a loud crash, Loras was sent flying from his saddle, landing heavily on the ground.
His frightened grey horse bolted immediately, and a dazed Ser Loras struggled to get to his feet.
The Mountain's longsword drew a semicircle.
With a squelch, blood sprayed everywhere as the Knight of Flowers was beheaded.
"Gasp!"
For a moment, it was as if time had frozen. Everyone's gaze was fixed on where the tragedy had occurred, unable to believe what they were seeing.
...
*Clang~ Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang~~~*
A familiar melody from his past life surfaced in Glyn's mind, and his brown eyes twitched... The Hound, wanting to stop The Mountain's atrocity, didn't get more than a few steps before falling to the ground from his leg injury... Renly Baratheon, like a madman, leaped down from the high stands, rolling several times on the ground... The knights of the Golden Rose and green-cloaked soldiers swarmed onto the tourney grounds... In that moment, many people went mad at once.
The Mountain's towering figure disappeared into the dense encirclement, his fate unknown.
...
Petyr stood beside Glyn, looking at the chaotic scene before them. He spoke leisurely, "The Tyrells must have intentionally found a mare in heat."
A corner of his mouth slowly curled up as he continued, "I suspect the lad planned it beforehand... Everyone knows The Mountain has always preferred a large, ill-tempered, and exceptionally wild steed."
Glyn nodded and said calmly, "In all likelihood, that is the case. The Golden Rose was too arrogant... Otherwise, today's tragedy would not have occurred."
Petyr's pupils constricted. He paused for a moment before saying, "That makes sense. Not everyone is willing to play along with the games of the great lords. I don't know whether to call it good luck or bad... and it just so happens The Mountain is not one of them."
Glyn turned his head to look at Petyr, a trace of helplessness on his face. "Lord Petyr, now the Tyrells will hate the Lannisters to death."
In the distance, dozens of red-cloaked Lannister soldiers trying to rescue The Mountain were in a standoff with the Tyrells' green-cloaked soldiers. A fight could break out at any moment.
Petyr returned Glyn's gaze and shrugged. "I hear the Lord of Highgarden doted on his youngest son. Alas, the Seven Kingdoms have only just had a few years of peace."
Glyn's expression remained impassive, but inwardly he scorned Petyr.
"Lord Petyr, let's go over there. I think the Hand of the King needs some help."
...
It all happened too suddenly. Lord Eddard looked at his sobbing daughter clutching him and sighed... He had to get over there as quickly as possible to stabilize the situation before a greater conflict erupted, but he was also uneasy about leaving Sansa here alone.
Sansa had nearly cried her eyes out. Why did such a beautiful Knight of Flowers have to die? Would everyone forget his face and name as time went on? Would no one compose songs to praise him anymore... How tragic.
Glyn and Petyr pushed through the crowd and approached Lord Eddard.
Glyn glanced at Sansa's tear-stained face. It was very noisy here, so he raised his voice, "Lord Eddard, please entrust Lady Sansa to me. I will arrange for an escort to take her safely to the Tower of the Hand."
Hearing Glyn's voice, Sansa managed to control her emotions. She let go of her father, lowered her small face, and gently wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.
Lord Eddard nodded, patted his daughter, then stood and strode down from the viewing platform.
Sansa needed rest. Glyn and the guards escorted her from the tourney grounds, and Petyr followed behind them the entire time, not leaving.
...
By the time Sansa was settled inside the Clegane carriage, she had at least recovered her outward composure.
"Lord Glyn, thank you for your help, and..."
As she spoke, Sansa's moist eyes turned to the strange man sitting opposite her, who was always staring at her.
The strange man was dressed primly, like a septon. He was very short, with a pointed beard and a few strands of silver at his hairline. He seemed to be about the same age as her father.
Glyn, standing by the carriage, made the introduction. "Lady Sansa, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin on the Small Council."
Sansa's etiquette was perfect. "It is an honor to meet you. I am Sansa Stark."
Glyn suddenly thought of something... It seemed that neither Sansa nor Arya possessed the "arrogance" of a lord's daughter, which was very different from Little Rose's personable image.
Glyn could sense... Little Rose held reservations about his behavior of disregarding all the great lords except for Queen Cersei... Although she never showed it on the surface, she had always kept her own counsel.
All in all, the two daughters of House Stark possessed a kind of simplicity that was different from the daughters of other lords.
Glyn gave a few more instructions and then left, handing the rest of the escort mission to the "volunteering" Petyr Baelish.
With both the Knight of Flowers and The Mountain out of the running, Glyn was now the champion of the jousting competition. According to custom, the King and Queen would grant him an audience.
*Right,* he thought, *and I'll collect the 40,000 gold dragon prize while I'm at it.*
...
Inside the carriage, a smile played on Petyr's lips. His gaze never left Sansa's small face.
"You have the look of a Tully..."
After a pause, he added, "Sansa, don't be sad anymore. A smile suits you better."
Sansa was a little confused. Petyr's pair of gray-green eyes kept staring at her, yet she felt as if he were looking at someone else. The feeling was very strange.
Petyr's voice was hoarse. "Catelyn... your mother..."
Sansa blinked her eyes and asked, "You know my mother?"
Petyr's face was gentle. "Child, Catelyn and I grew up together in Riverrun. In my heart, she was the queen of love and beauty."
...
...
Not long after Glyn returned to the tourney grounds, Lord Eddard, assisting King Robert, quickly quelled the chaos, temporarily suppressing the eruption of hatred.
As the champion of the joust, Glyn first circled the field to accept the cheers of the audience. Then, under Jaime's ashen-faced glare... with his own two hands, he placed the wreath of the queen of love and beauty upon Princess Myrcella's head.
Seeing the somewhat shy Myrcella, King Robert roared with laughter, and the surrounding crowd also broke into good-natured smiles.
Queen Cersei was very pleased with Glyn's actions... Glyn, winner of the King's Landing tourney, would soon be famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms. At the same time, eight-year-old Myrcella, now crowned with flowers, would also become known across the realm. Everyone would praise her daughter, just as they had once called her the Light of the West.
Queen Cersei lifted her chin. The lioness's daughter would naturally rise above all other women.
...
That afternoon, Balon Swann of Stonehelm defeated Jalabhar Xho of the Summer Isles in the archery finals, winning the championship.
Nearly forty men participated in the grand mêlée, most of whom were free riders, sellsword knights, and new squires seeking glory. They wielded blunted weapons, fighting each other in a field spattered with mud and blood.
One moment they would form small bands to fight together; the next, they would fall to infighting and kill each other. Alliances were formed and broken in an instant, until only one man was left standing... The final victor was Monton Waters of The Whispers.