Chapter 26 – Salted Ham, Fine Wine, and Ten Pretty Girls
Tyrion Lannister still wasn't sure how to repay the boy who had twice saved his life.
Knighthood, perhaps — that was every squire's dream, wasn't it?
But Podrick Payne had surprised him.
The boy had refused. Flatly.
He'd insisted, with that quiet, stubborn calm of his, that he wanted only to remain by Tyrion's side.
And, to top it off, when Lord Tywin himself had promised to grant him any reward he wished — anything — the boy had asked for only two things.
---
"Pod…"
Tyrion glanced sideways at his squire as their horses clopped along the King's Road toward King's Landing.
He realized, not for the first time, that he didn't truly understand the boy at all.
"Why," he asked, "did you ask my father for those two things?"
The boy's gaze had been wandering across the fields, distant and vacant.
At the sound of Tyrion's voice, he blinked, as though waking from a dream.
"Ah… forgive me, my lord. What did you say?"
"I asked," Tyrion repeated patiently, "why you only asked my father for those two things."
Riding just behind them, Bronn perked up, curiosity brightening his dark, wolfish grin.
The sellsword had been watching the two of them since dawn, and he'd seen the strange tension between them ever since Tyrion had taken the boy to see Lord Tywin before their departure.
Clearly, something had happened.
"What things?" Bronn cut in. "Gold? A keep? Maybe a castle?"
He gave Podrick a long, amused once-over, as if expecting to see a golden crown tucked under his cloak.
Podrick chuckled softly, eyes glinting with humor.
"Nothing of the sort," he said. "Just… a salted ham from Lord Tywin's supply wagons, and a bottle of the finest red wine in the Seven Kingdoms."
Bronn nearly choked on his laughter.
"You're jesting."
"I'm not," said Podrick simply.
Even Tyrion frowned, lips twitching somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
For all of Tywin's grandeur and wealth, for all the honors he could have bestowed, this boy — a Payne by birth, a distant cousin to Ser Ilyn — had asked only for a ham and a bottle of wine.
It made no sense.
No wonder Tyrion found himself asking again.
"So tell me, Podrick. Why?"
Podrick looked between them, then sighed and shrugged, as though embarrassed by the attention.
"It's really nothing," he said. "The wine… that was for Ser Kevan Lannister."
Tyrion blinked.
"My uncle?"
Pod nodded.
"He saved my life once — from a hanging. I was just a poor boy then, and had nothing. Still don't."
"So I thought… I could at least give him something in return. A gift bought with my own merit, not someone else's coin. The wine is for him — to thank him for the life I still have."
Bronn's usual smirk faltered a bit, and even Tyrion was silent for a moment.
"And the ham?" Tyrion asked at last.
Pod smiled faintly, eyes warm.
"That's for your father, my lord. To show him I understood his lesson."
"Lesson?"
"He told me that if I wanted something, I should earn it — not steal it.
So, I asked for the same ham I once took… this time, as an honest man."
He looked ahead, a quiet pride in his voice now.
"And when I have it, I'll share it with my friends.
I'll tell them it isn't stolen — that I earned it with my own hands."
He said it lightly, with a boy's smile and no trace of arrogance,
but his words hung in the air like the toll of a great bell.
Tyrion and Bronn exchanged a look — neither speaking, neither smiling.
The sellsword gave a low whistle.
"Seven hells," Bronn muttered. "That's… gods, I don't even know what that is.
Honor, maybe?"
Tyrion only chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
"No," he said softly. "That's sense. Something Westeros could use more of."
---
Podrick's smile didn't change.
"I didn't do it for sense, my lord. I just wanted to make things right."
The road stretched on before them, bright with sunlight, winding like a golden ribbon through the green hills.
For a while, no one spoke. The hooves of their horses filled the silence, steady and calm.
---
Then Tyrion drew a long breath and gave a sideways glance at his squire.
"Pod…"
"Yes, my lord?"
Podrick looked at Tyrion, his heterochromatic eyes—one black, one green—full of seriousness.
"You saved my life. Twice.
What you asked for doesn't begin to match what you're owed."
Podrick smiled.
"But, my lord… you already gave me more than enough."
"Nonsense," Tyrion said. "My father's promises are his. I keep my own accounts.
A Lannister always pays his debts."
Podrick hesitated, eyes thoughtful.
"In that case, my lord… may I ask for something else? Just one thing?"
Tyrion grinned, intrigued.
"Anything, my dear boy. Speak freely."
Pod looked utterly serious.
"I haven't slept well since the night the war began," he said, "and… well… Miss Shae is very beautiful."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"So… I was wondering… if I could have a girl like her."
"Like her?" Tyrion echoed.
"Yes," Podrick said earnestly. "Just as young. Just as beautiful."
He thought for a moment, then added, perfectly straight-faced:
"Ten would be enough."
Bronn burst out laughing so hard his horse nearly veered off the road.
Tyrion just stared for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed until tears blurred his vision.
"Seven bloody hells, Podrick Payne!" he wheezed.
"You refuse gold, glory, and a keep — and then demand ten beautiful women?
You're a bloody Lannister after all!"
Pod grinned, a rare flash of mischief lighting his usually solemn face.
"Well, my lord… you told me to ask for what I truly wanted."
Tyrion laughed again, wiping at his eyes.
"And you shall have it, my brave, ridiculous boy.
A salted ham, a bottle of fine wine, and ten young, pretty women.
You've earned them all."
Bronn snorted.
"Aye — and one of them better be kind enough to show him what to do with the rest."
Their laughter rolled down the Kingsroad,
carried by the wind and sunlight,
as three unlikely companions rode on toward the city of kings —
and the chaos waiting behind its crimson walls.