"Free riders are a type of mercenary. They don't have knightly status, but they have horses and know a bit about fighting on horseback. The only difference between them and ordinary mercenaries is that they have horses."
Dany nodded. A good horse alone cost more than one Gold Dragon. Add tack, daily feed, and care, and ordinary mercenaries with no steady property simply couldn't afford to keep one.
"Knights… are more troublesome. Generally speaking, a child who aspires to become a knight is sent to serve a knight around the age of seven, becoming a page. They do light tasks like pouring wine and running errands—easy work that helps build a close relationship with the knight.
"Of course, this process doesn't exclude martial training. There are swordmasters specially responsible for helping the children lay a solid foundation.
"When they're a bit older, over twelve—around puberty—the page is promoted to squire. The knight personally teaches the squire how to use weapons and handle a horse, and passes on experience for surviving the battlefield.
"Mm, chivalric spirit is also a very important part of the instruction.
"Squiring also comes with the duty—and the right—to accompany the knight into battle.
"By preparing the knight's horse and armor, and fighting side by side with him, a squire can learn even more techniques of war—if that knight actually has any to teach."
He paused, then added, "Many squires remain squires for their entire lives, because they don't have the money to buy their own horse and armor."
Dany clicked her tongue. "Can't their knight give them a set of armor and a horse?"
Ser Jorah looked at Dany deeply, then mocked himself with a smile. "Because I repeatedly lost my own armor and horse to opponents at tourneys, I soon spent my last savings and had no choice but to borrow a huge sum from the Iron Bank of Braavos. I was a landed count, mind you—the Mormont family has been passed down for thousands of years."
"I heard the Lannisters lent the Usurper several million gold coins," Dany said.
"That much?" Jorah asked in surprise. After a moment, he shook his head and sighed. "There's a saying in Westeros: even Lord Tywin Lannister's shit is gold. Nobles aren't all the same. The Westerlands are full of mountains, and beneath many of those mountains are inexhaustible gold and silver mines."
So their family literally had mines!
"Go on," Dany said, lifting her chin.
"Go on with what? Knights, or my story?" Jorah licked his lips. He felt like he'd been talking a lot—his mouth was dry.
"Knights first."
"Any knight can knight another. So, if a knight believes that his grown squire is qualified, he will place his sword on the shoulder of the kneeling squire and loudly proclaim the name and house of the one being knighted.
"The process is more complicated than what I've described. The newly made knight will also be anointed with holy oil by a septon and must spend the night in a sept. That's a process of devotion to the Seven, which is why people of the North, who worship the Old Gods, rarely become knights."
"So you're a fake knight?" Dany tilted her head at him.
The knight flushed red and argued, "There's no such thing as fake or real. Northern nobles are recognized as knights even without formal knighting."
Soon after, he continued, "I'm one of the few in the North who was properly anointed. Besides the formal path I described, there's also a faster way to become a knight.
"If one renders distinguished service in war, their liege can directly knight them. That's how I received my knighthood."
"During the war that helped the Usurper wipe out the Targaryen dynasty?" Dany raised an eyebrow.
"No, no," he denied quickly. "It was during the suppression of King Balon's rebellion."
He didn't know that the Dany with a different soul inside didn't care at all about the war in which the Targaryens lost the throne. She immediately changed the topic and said, "Besides free riders, there are also hired knights and sworn knights.
"Sworn knights are knights who attach themselves to another noble house. They swear oaths of service, hence the name. Most are minor nobles with knightly titles but no lands.
"Mm, I was previously your brother Viserys's sworn knight, and later I became your sworn knight as well—until you granted me even greater honor and made me a Queen's Guard."
Listening to his emotional recounting, Dany complained inwardly: back then you practically came begging to be Viserys's sworn knight. And when you became my Kingsguard, you asked for it yourself. At the time, I was only tentatively letting Jhogo and the others become my bloodriders—
Ser Jorah, unaware that someone was enjoying the benefits while pretending otherwise, continued, "Great lords often hire free riders to patrol their lands. Compared to lifelong loyalty from sworn knights, hired knights are more flexible—and cheaper.
"Bear Island isn't small, but I couldn't afford sworn knights. I only had a few free riders under me to patrol the forests."
At this point, he sighed deeply, filled with emotion, and said dejectedly, "I went bankrupt. I couldn't even pay the wages of my cook and my harper. And when Lynesse heard that I was thinking of pawning her jewelry, she…
"For money. To keep Lynesse's jewelry, her singers, her cooks, I…
"My hired riders caught several commoners poaching. By tradition, they could only choose between having their hands chopped off or being sent to the Wall to join the Night's Watch. But for money, I finally and completely abandoned my honor.
"I sold them to Tyroshi slavers. That violated the laws of the Seven Kingdoms—under the Faith of the Seven, slavery is not permitted."
"You were exiled? That seems a bit harsh. They could've fined you as a warning, told you not to do it again," Dany said.
"More honorable than exile—and more cruel," he replied. "I committed a capital crime. I was to be beheaded."
"Uh…"
"According to the tradition of the First Men, Eddard Stark was to personally judge me. After hearing my final confession, he also had to personally take my head with Ice."
(Ice: the ancestral sword of House Stark, Valyrian steel. The lord uses it to execute criminals—highborn or lowborn, all equally entitled to Ice's edge.)
Dany glanced at the rough map of Westeros Jorah had just carved into the stone slab and said, "Winterfell is quite far from Bear Island. You escaped?"
"About a thousand kilometers. Riding hard and constantly changing horses, you can reach the coast in two days at the fastest. On the third day, you can board a ship to Bear Island. But three days was already enough for me… enough to flee with Lynesse and her jewels."
"If I remember correctly, you're the only son of House Mormont."
Jorah nodded. "Yes. My father had only me. I do have a paternal aunt, but all five of her children are daughters."
"Your father took the black?"
"Mm."
"You once served as Eddard Stark's guard and fought in the Usurper's War?" Dany asked again.
"I also fought at the Battle of the Trident," he said softly, his voice like a breeze brushing past one's temples, carrying caution and a hint of pride.
"You risked life and limb for Winterfell for so many years, followed him as a rebel, followed him to suppress rebels—and in the end, over a few poachers, he was going to cut off the head of the only male heir of House Mormont?!" Dany's tone was complicated. It was a question, yet stated flatly.
"That's the kind of man Stark is," Jorah said, still indignant even now. Clearly, he too felt his liege had been overly harsh.
After a while, the knight sighed again. "I suppose that's one of his rare charms—fair and just, strict with himself, and strict with others as well."
Heh. Shouldn't it be "strict with himself, lenient with others" to count as real character?
If Jorah's story were placed in any dynasty of the Great Heavenly Court, it would be unimaginable.
This went beyond iron-faced impartiality. Even Judge Bao had moments of mercy beyond the law—otherwise, how could the Seven Heroes and Five Gallants have survived? One could only say that Eddard Stark lived too comfortably and was far too rigid.
Dany couldn't help but think: is it really that easy to hold a realm together in this world? The Starks ruled like this, yet the position of King in the North remained as stable as a mountain.
Then how did the Targaryens lose the realm? Could this body's old man, the "Mad King" Aerys, really be even more reckless than Eddard?
Heavens have mercy—people so lacking in political maneuvering could act recklessly on one hand and still maintain a kingdom for hundreds, even thousands of years. If the last emperors of the Great Heavenly Court knew this, they'd probably drool with envy.
In truth, only the Northmen were rigid. Houses like Lannister, Tyrell, and Martell were in no way inferior to any famous rulers of the Great Heavenly Court when it came to political scheming.
"Alright, go on," she said. She felt there was still far too much she needed to learn. This world was vastly different from the Eastern survival rules she was familiar with.
She could only adapt. To change things, at the very least, dragons would have to be so strong that they couldn't be killed by crossbows—though it seemed dragons that couldn't be shot dead didn't yet exist?
Should she let the dragons learn from Westerosi knights and put them in full suits of armor?
If they fought barehanded, just the current tiny Khalasars could find ten Dothraki warriors who could chop Jorah to pieces. But if he were clad in armor, not a single one of her bloodriders would be his match.
While Dany's thoughts wandered, Jorah continued, "I told myself that as long as Lynesse and I truly loved each other, honor, status, homeland, titles, family—none of it mattered. I fled with her to Lys. That large ship was still worth something, and we lived half a year in comfort."
The moment she heard the words "true love," Dany knew Jorah was headed for tragedy.
Sure enough, his bear-like, ferocious eyes reddened, moisture shimmering within them. His bearded, square face twisted into a single word—bitter.
"I could only become a mercenary. Other than fighting for others, I had no survival skills at all. That day, I accepted a mission—to leave Lys and go thousands of miles away to the Rhoyne to compete with the Braavosi for territory. She…"
His tone turned unbearably sorrowful. "I gave her the advance payment. She took the gold and her jewelry, and on the second day after I left, moved into the bedchamber of the trade prince Tregar Ormollen."
So miserable!
Now when Dany looked at Jorah, she felt that the word bitter on his big face had already turned into a glaring miserable.
In the original story, the Dany he loved and devoted the rest of his life to also kept handing him good-guy cards, again and again. This…
If Jorah Mormont were to stand up and shout, "Who dares say they're more miserable than me?!"
Dany thought hard. It seemed that only the future Theon could meekly say, "Maybe… maybe I can barely reach your pant leg."
In truth, she was too close to the situation to see it clearly, forgetting that there was someone far more miserable than Jorah Mormont.
That person—
Was herself.
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
"Game of Thrones: Political Life"
"Game of Thrones: Holy Flame"
"The Game of Thrones Upgrade System"
"Game of Thrones: Lannister Kingdom"
"Game of Thrones: Godzilla vs. Dragons"
"Game of Thrones: Ruler of the Deep Seas "
"Game of Thrones The Glory of a Knight"
"Game of Thrones: The Most Powerful Dragon Queen"
" Game of Thrones: From the Elden Lord to the Young Wolf"
"Game of Thrones: Rise of a Lord with the Army-Building System"
(End Chapter)