I followed Ned out of the establishment followed by Jory and a few of the Stark men when Jaime and his Lannister men came out of the alleyway. On seeing this Petyr who followed us out of the establishment shouted "My Lords! I'll bring the City Watch!"
I moved closer to Ned's boot, my fur matted and heavy with the smell of the gutter. My [Detection] was a chaotic blur of red pulses. Jaime Lannister sat his horse with an easy, mocking posture, his golden cloak sagging under the weight of the water. The around twenty men-at-arms formed a semi-circle, their hands resting on their spear.
"Lord Stark," Jaime said, his voice effortless despite the wind. He didn't sound angry; he sounded like a man bored by an errand. "I'm looking for my brother. You remember my brother, don't you? Tiny fellow, clever with his tongue?"
"He was taken on my order," Ned replied, his voice clear. He didn't draw his sword, but his hand there, knuckles white. "To answer for his crimes."
Jaime's expression didn't change. He just looked at the rain for a moment before turning back. "I'm afraid I can't let you go until he's returned. Kill the others," he said, flicking a casual wrist toward Jory and the rest of our detail. "But leave Lord Stark alive. I want him to have time to think about his mistakes."
The violence started at that. Jory lunged first, his blade catching a Lannister guard in the throat. The clang of metal on metal filled the narrow street, punctuated by the panicked neighing of the horses.
Then Jaime dismounted ignoring the muck. He drew his sword and caught a strike from a Stark man, parrying it with a flick of his wrist before his left hand dipped toward his belt.
I'd seen this scene more than once. It was to draw a dagger, something Jory wasn't prepared for. He was stepping inside Jory's reach, the blade angled for Jory's eye.
I didn't have time for a plan. I threw myself forward in a desperate [Quick Attack], my paws sliding in the slurry. I didn't get a clean hit. I slammed into the side of Jaime's knee just as he lunged. It wasn't enough to knock him down, but his foot skidded in the mud. The dagger missed Jory's face, scraping loudly against his leather guard.
Jory stumbled back, a panicked gasp escaped his throat. He didn't look like the shiny knight he always portrayed himself as; he looked like a man who had just felt the cold breath of his death. He scrambled to find his footing, his sword shaking as he reset his guard.
"Annoying creature," Jaime murmured. He didn't scream or rage. He simply adjusted his stance, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me annoyed.
Ned moved then, his longsword coming out in a defensive sweep. He didn't drive forward; he held his ground, forcing Jaime to come to him. The two of them exchanged a flurry of strikes, the sound of their steel ringing out through the alley. Jaime was faster, his movements more fluid, but the mud made his pivots sluggish.
I stayed low, weaving through the chaos of boots and falling men. Again I snapped at Jaime's heels, making him hesitate for a fraction of a second before he stepped. As he prepared a heavy overhead strike, I lunged and caught the hem of his golden cloak, giving it a sharp, violent yank.
Jaime's head jerked down for a split second to see what was hindering him. He didn't lose his head, but his stance broke.
Ned didn't hesitate. He reacted to the opening, his blade catching Jaime in a shallow arc across the ribs. There was a sharp clink as the steel found a gap in the golden plate, followed by the wet sound of a strike. Jaime stepped back, his hand coming up to touch the red stain spreading across his side. He looked at the blood on his fingers with almost detached curiosity.
The Lannister guards saw their commander bleed and their focus split. Three of them turned toward me, their faces shown their rough, simple intent to kill. "Get the Hound!" one shouted, his voice cracking.
A short-sword hissed through the air, narrowly missing my flank. I didn't stay to see where the next one went. I turned and bolted into the dark, my heart pounding against my chest. A throwing knife thudded into a wooden door just inches from my head. I dived under a water trough, hearing the heavy, clanking boots of the guards behind me.
I didn't have a clear escape. I scrambled over a pile of wet crates, nearly slipping, and squeezed through a narrow gap between two stone walls. A spear tip scraped the stone beside me, sparking in the gloom. I could hear the guards cursing, their heavy armor making it impossible for them to follow through the tight space.
Then shouts began to be heard in the distance, the City Watch was finally moving.
I circled back through a butcher's yard, my lungs burning, and watched from the shadows of a cellar entrance. Jaime was already back on his horse. He wasn't shouting orders or showing his rage rather he was looking at the Tower of the Hand with a cold gaze that felt far more dangerous than anger. He signaled his men to retreat just as the first Gold Cloaks arrived at the end of the street.
Ned and Jory were still standing in the middle of the rain, their chests heaving. Jory was leaning against a wall, his hand trembling as he wiped the mud from his face.
The immediate danger was over and we were back in the castle, but the peace was gone.
[Level 16]
[Status: The Lion's Bane]
[Detection: Jaime Lannister marked as Nemesis]
I stayed in the shadows, waiting for the street to clear before I followed Ned back. He hadn't won, and we weren't safe, but we were still a pack. For now, that had to be enough.