Pate was waiting for me at the end of the tiltyard and we made our way to one of the smaller stables to see Smoker settled in until my next joust.
There were few horses still here and no stableboys that I could see, so I dismissed going to the large pavilion delegated for competing knights and stripped out of my armored suit right then and there.
And though he didn't ask, I favored Pate with a couple of silvers before I left. For his help taking care of Smoker for the next couple of days and for his silence.
After splattering some water on my face and quickly putting on the clothes I had stashed away behind the stables, I took the long way around the grounds toward the Stormland section of the noble stands.
I was done riding for now but the day wasn't yet over, and I hoped to catch the last few tilts of the riders I'd be competing in the semi-finals and finals in two days' time.
As I walked, I took note of all the activity around me. Hundreds of tents and pavilions in as many colors dotted the fields on the northern side of Lannisport, the grounds reserved for the tourney being squeezed between the city itself and the jutting castle-mountain of Casterly Rock.
We had been invited to stay at the Lannister castle given our rank, but the small company of men we'd brought with us were staying here amongst the many knights, lordlings and freeriders that weren't high enough on the totem pole to make it into the Rock.
Even with the jousts still going on, hammers rang incessantly as carpenters and smiths worked on crafting lances and repairing armor for their lords and knights. Washerwomen knelt by frothing tubs clucking and giggling to each other; men-at-arms watching over their respecting tents mingled around unlit campfires with the low-end prostitutes too old or too ugly to make it into the brothels at Lannisport.
A tournament this size didn't just happen with a few stands hastily thrown in and a simple tiltyard.
Thousands of smallfolk and hundreds of nobles had flocked to Lannisport for this tournament, and the lord responsible for hosting was naturally judged by their peers in how successful the whole thing turned out.
Tywin Lannister had promised the best tourney in living memory, and so far he was delivering it.
Of course, I knew that should things proceed as they are supposed to, Harrenhal would blow it by miles in just a short five years.
Five years of peace before the realm was thrown into chaos and old traditions were swept away in the wind. Five years before a little fish like me could make a big splash.
Instinctively dodging the reaching hands of a drunk prostitute, I picked up my pace and started to go around the small hill where the smallfolk could stand shoulder-to-shoulder and watch the jousting. Cheers rose from their midst. The last knights were riding already.
I made it to our section in the noble stands just as Ser Arthur Dayne unhorsed a knight from House Rowan of the Reach. A smattering of rowdy Stormlander lords and knights roared in approval as the man with a golden tree stitched into his tabard had to be carried away on a stretcher.
It seemed Ser Arthur had enough clout that his dornish-ness was disregarded for the moment, and the Stormlanders' hate for the pompous men of the Reach was a close sentiment to the animosity for their dornish cousins.
I elbowed my way past some of the minor nobility, mostly landed knights who traveled without their families and attendants, toward the tiny box on the edge of the stand with reserved seats for my family.
Despite being only fifteen, I stood tall enough that none of the drunk knights dared try anything beyond glare at my back once I squeezed past. The nice clothing helped too, I would think.
A guardsman wearing our colors let me through after recognizing me and I jumped the short railing that separated our box. Alysanne almost shrieked when my feet hit the ground just behind her seat.
"Father above, Gal!" she said in a chiding voice. "Don't scare me like that."
I smiled at the girl, mussed up her blond hair before she could slap my hand away and dove in for a kiss on her cheek when her guard was down. She gave up after she couldn't stop the second kiss and crossed her arms, pouting.
"Where were you?" Arianne asked calmly. Despite being the older of the two girls by scarcely a year, she often acted like she was an ancient being of infinite wisdom. Some days I was inclined to believe her.
I didn't even try to muss up her own black hair, instead kissing the top of her hand when she offered it like a proper lady. If I had tried to mess with her in public like I did with Aly, I'd wake up with goat shit smeared all over my clothes and dead rats stuffed on my sheets.
Trust me, it'd happen.
I still hadn't figured out who she'd gotten to do the deed for her. I refused to believe a twelve-year-old girl had twisted the head of the rats by herself. That ice-princess behavior was all a front she put up though, and it was to my room that Arianne ran to on the nights she had her frequent nightmares.
"Oh, you know your brother," I said, inclining my head innocently. "Sometimes I get lost on the road of life, other times I'm helping old ladies carry their fruit baskets."
Arianne narrowed bottle-green eyes at me.
"And what was it this time, hm?" Lady Addison asked coyly, pushing her chair out to greet me.
"Mother," I greeted, kissing her cheek. She shot me a wink and I rolled my eyes. Of course Father had told her I was the mystery knight. "Nothing exciting, I'm afraid. But I'd be happy to regale you with my adventures later." Coughing into my hand, I quickly turned to the last person in the box. "Father, could I have a word with you. Alone?"