In 295 AC, on the top of Visenya's Hill, was Tobho's smithy.
Gendry, at eleven years old, had adapted to life as a blacksmith's apprentice.
Behind the smithy was a spacious stone-built barn, with a roaring forge in every corner, and the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and sulfur.
Gendry, with charcoal-black hair and deep blue eyes, was forging a breastplate, completely engrossed in his work. The entire world was reduced to metal, bellows, and the forge fire, a symphony of steel, with the Iron Hammer becoming an extension of his arm. Afterwards, he would pick up long-handled tongs, clamp the breastplate, and immerse it in a trough of cold water for tempering, the armor hissing.
Gendry felt an inexhaustible strength within him, a 'caste toughness,' which he seemingly owed to his father, who had never cared for him. His ancestor, the mad storm, was a burly man about two meters and one centimeter tall, and King Robert was also one meter and ninety-six centimeters tall.
"Very good, Gendry. For your age, you are strong and tall, and you work diligently," Tobho praised, as if he saw a proud and robust young deer. He was the owner of a large smithy, but at heart, he was more of a craftsman. Gendry's physique, if he weren't going to war, was indeed well-suited for smithing.
"Thank you for the compliment!" Gendry replied indifferently, continuing his work. Frankly, he still loved his job. Although smithing was a physically demanding job, one of life's three great hardships, at Tobho's smithy, he had enough meat and nutrients, making him tall and strong, which was much better than starving in a small tavern.
"Child, smithing is a slow process. Above pig iron is refined iron, and above refined iron is valyrian steel. In short, it takes three years and three years, you need several 'three years' to become the best blacksmith. Back in my day..." Tobho was about to boast about his apprenticeship in Qohor, but then thought better of it, realizing this apprentice wouldn't stay here long. Robert's bastard, and older than the heir, this Child was subtly caught in a web of power. The queen's pride and stubbornness were well-known among the people of king's landing, and the queen particularly loathed the king's bastards. He was destined not to remain in his smithy forever.
"Do you miss your parents?" Tobho asked in a low voice.
"Missing them is useless, I've almost forgotten them. My mother died when I was very young, I only remember her singing to me, and her hair was yellow. As for my father, he's probably long dead!" Gendry fiddled with his black hair, which was soaked with sweat.
Tobho felt that Gendry's words were indeed stifling. This ignorant Child, compared to his legitimate siblings who lived in luxury, could only accept the dreary life of the smithy. But perhaps this was for the best. If this Boy knew who his biological father was, a bastard immersed in the dream of being a king's son would likely not stay peacefully in the smithy, and that would be worse. The people of House Lannister were never to be trifled with.
"You are a smart Child, just a bit stubborn! Well, this breastplate is well-made, you can go play now!" Tobho let Gendry finish his work early.
"Thanks!" After smithing, Gendry could relax and play with his fellow apprentices for a while.
Stepping out of the barn into the smithy's narrow courtyard, Gendry saw his companions, all around thirteen or fourteen years old. They were also wearing simple undershirts, the standard uniform of the smithy. Some were sons of blacksmiths from the Street of Steel, whose parents had entrusted them to the top smithy. Others were second sons of impoverished nobles, or children of minor citizens.
"You guys play!" Gendry looked at his companions, "I don't like these games."
"There he goes again. This guy has no spirit. He's so big, yet he doesn't like to pick up a weapon!"
Gendry found a place to sit and watched the apprentices' play-acting. The smithy had discarded blunt weapons, which served as toys for these apprentices, mostly blunt swords.
"Watch out! I am the Sword of the Morning!" A chubby, yellow-haired Boy brandished a blunt sword, making a few moves.
"You'll make me die laughing! If the Sword of the Morning were as fat as a pig like you, he'd probably have been kicked out of the Kingsguard long ago!" A thinner, freckled Boy burst into laughter.
"Damn it! Then you duel me!" the chubby Boy said angrily.
"I'll duel!" The thinner, freckled Boy also raised a blunt sword, "I am Barristan the Bold, the most legendary swordsman!"
"The Sword of the Morning! Barristan the Bold!" Gendry heard these names, they were familiar. They were all White Knight, all outstanding masters, but they had nothing to do with him. His current task was to survive and not expose himself.
The two went back and forth, but it was more like a street brawl than a knightly duel. These blacksmith's apprentices had no formal martial arts training; it looked like children messing around.
In the end, when both were tired, they had fought to a draw.
Gendry had no interest in their circus-like knights. As for fighting, all that mattered was being stronger and taller. In that regard, perhaps soon no one would be his match.
"Forget it, forget it, I don't think any of us will become knights! This Boy Blacksmith, Gendry, still has hope. He's the strongest and well-built!"
"Gendry, forget about him, all he does is smith! Gendry, do you like being a knight?"
"No?" Gendry shook his head. "I'm here to be a blacksmith. Why would I be a knight? Being a blacksmith is good enough. As long as our skills are good, even those noble lords will beg us to forge armor!"
"Hahaha!" Gendry's companions laughed. They were already used to Gendry's answer. He had no knightly dreams; it seemed he was a born blacksmith... At night, Gendry heard noisy sounds in the room. There were four apprentices in the room, one snoring, and another grinding his teeth.
Gendry was agitated; the noise made it harder to sleep.
"I have to run!" Gendry thought, it was an idea he had. But it was difficult; he had no supporters and was just a Boy now.
King's Landing was a dangerous city, and he was unsafe staying there. More importantly, he seemed to live constantly within The Spider's network. For example, among the apprentices who entered the smithy after the Street of Steel, Gendry knew there were informants of The Spider, who would observe his recent situation and try to get close to him. Gendry continued to live the life of a born blacksmith, forging every piece of iron well, not discussing politics or knights, which was the best disguise.
As for revealing his identity to King Robert and exposing the secret of his legitimate children, Gendry had never considered it; that was the most dangerous thing. King Robert had little affection for his bastards; even his supposedly legitimate children were not meticulously cared for by him; he was simply not suited to be a father. Moreover, within King's Landing, House Lannister's power was considerable.
Fortunately, only The Spider currently knew his identity as King Robert's eldest bastard. Who knew how long The Spider would keep this secret, perhaps just to curry favor with him.
Gendry hated The Spider. The Spider had sent him here. Varys was treating him as a high-priced pawn, to be thrown out when necessary. But Gendry feared House Lannister even more. If the people of House Lannister knew about him, that vicious queen would surely kill him, just like his other bastard brothers and sisters.