"I have seen him, seen the King in his youth. You resemble him greatly, perhaps even more fearless and brave, and just as green as spring grass. King Robert led Eddard to raise the rebellion, and Lord Jon convinced me to support his cause." Lord Hoster looked at Gendry's figure and face, scrutinizing him.
Lord Hoster had initially expected the relieving army to be from House Arryn or House Stark, but the reinforcements were not what he had imagined.
The man before him was not a red-haired Tully, but a tall warrior with the ancestral black hair and blue eyes of House Baratheon. The golden cloak and the horned greathelm before him seemed to ignite golden flames, a Field of Fire.
Gendry looked at Lord Hoster before him. From the old Lord's attitude, he was a wise player in the game of thrones, quickly bowing his head after realizing that the one who came to relieve him was not a Stark or an Arryn, and weighing the consequences.
In truth, Lord Hoster's so-called persuasion was nothing more than a complete exchange of interests. Hoster felt that the Mad King was beyond saving and quickly jumped ship. Moreover, for a woman like Lysa Tully, who had been dishonored and suffered a miscarriage, marrying a Lord like Jon was simply unbelievable.
"The King is dead," Gendry said to Lord Hoster. "He died in a Lannister trap, gored to death by a wild boar after drinking too much."
"The King, perhaps you could call him father, The late King, Your Highness," Lord Hoster said. "Perhaps you were not close, but for the sake of supreme power, one must put on a show."
"The gift The late King gave me, I will repay," Gendry nodded. He could only put on a small act, but at least no one spoke of it in depth. As long as appearances were kept, it was fine. Revenge was the greatest repayment. It was hard to have deep feelings for someone he had not spent time with for over a decade, a father he had never truly had.
"The banners, these banners of yours," Lord Hoster saw the quartered sigil on the golden cloak: stag, dragon, wolf, and the freed slave.
"Some you should recognize."
"Recognize, I have always recognized them. Especially the stag and the dragon, I once bent the knee for them, and fought for them. But now, I will bend the knee for you. Too much blood has flowed in this land. A war of Lords, but the suffering of the common folk. I heard of those things in the Riverlands, those fires, those massacres. Castles, lands, and people have all been ravaged by the Lannister. I am an incompetent liege Lord. If possible, please protect them. The people and the land are the foundation of the realm," Lord Hoster said sorrowfully.
"And also... harming children is not the way of a knight. Those things Tywin did, I am very sorry. If you see that Targaryen girl, oh, her name is Daenerys, isn't it? Please apologize on my behalf, but I also had my own difficulties. I was too greedy, and I had no choice. I couldn't put my hope in the Mad King's good intentions. He had already killed my son-in-law, would he burn me too?" Hoster pleaded.
"I will," Gendry nodded. The events of that year were indeed a messy affair. Suspicion existed in everyone's heart, primarily because the Mad King's brazen killing of Rickard and Brandon—directly killing a great Lord and his son—was such an outrageous act that it terrified Hoster and all the great Lords, especially since House Tully and House Stark had a marriage pact.
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