"Do you know every Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, then?"
— Ser Duncan 'Dunk' the Tall
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[ Ethan of Dunstonbury ]
As we rode away from the village, the warmth of its hearths and the comfort of its walls began to fade into memory. The roofs shrank behind us, swallowed slowly by fields of tall wheat that bent beneath the wind. Rhea, whose laughter had already begun to settle somewhere stubborn inside my chest, was now part of that distant horizon.
Such was the life of a hedge knight. We moved. We fought. We earned our coin at tourneys and spent it before the next season turned.
I had grown used to it, or so I told myself. Yet each farewell still struck true. It landed like one of Ser Alekyne's blows during sparring. Swift. Heavy. Expected, yet never gentle.
I glanced back one last time as the village disappeared completely. It had been peaceful there. Simple.
Maybe if knighthood soured on me, I could take up farming instead. A small patch of land. A quiet life.
Tilling soil until my hair turned grey.
The image rose in my mind and I snorted at myself. I knew nothing of crops or seasons. I would likely starve before the harvest. Or die from some foolish mistake within a moon's turn.
Then my gaze drifted to Ser Alekyne riding ahead of me, straight-backed and steady. I thought of the men I had seen fall before him. Bandits. Knights. It had never mattered which. Steel did not care for titles.
If I were ever the one facing someone clearly stronger, faster, more seasoned, what chance would I truly have? Would knighthood end with glory, or with my skull split open on some nameless field?
I shook my head sharply. No sense souring my mood.
There were far better things to dwell on. Like a pair of bright green eyes.
They had been like the Reach itself, wide and alive. Mesmerising.
I leaned too far forward in my saddle and nearly pitched off my horse before catching myself.
"Dozing off in your thoughts again?" Ser Alekyne called back.
He did not turn fully, only enough for me to see the corner of his expression. His hands held the reins firm, posture loose and balanced as always.
I gave him a nod.
"Well then," he said, looking forward once more, "tell me what thoughts have stolen you away."
I looked down at my leather gloves, flexing my fingers before tightening them. Honesty. A knight is always honest. That had been his first lesson to me, delivered alongside bruises I had carried for days.
"I was thinking about a girl," I admitted. "Rhea."
I remembered my earliest riding lesson, when I had bounced in the saddle like a sack of turnips. For two whole days I had ridden crooked, too stubborn to admit my mistake. My stomach had ached more than my pride.
Alekyne chuckled softly. "That girl. Pretty little thing." He let the words hang before adding, "I would not have thought you the sort to be smitten by a farmer's daughter."
"What is wrong with being a farmer?" I shot back.
He lifted both hands briefly in mock surrender. "Nothing at all. I simply imagined you chasing after some noble lady instead." He glanced at me and made an exaggerated gesture around his chest. "Perhaps one with a more impressive figure."
My face burned instantly. "There is nothing wrong with nobles," I muttered. "It is just… Rhea had something about her. I cannot quite explain it."
He looked up at the sky, watching a line of birds cut across the blue. "Get used to that feeling," he said. "There will be many times your heart races for a woman you cannot keep."
"That is the life of a hedge knight."
He rode in silence for a few breaths before I ventured, "Was there someone who made you feel that way? Like your heart might break free from your chest when she speaks? Like you cannot help but smile at every word?"
He gave a quiet huff of amusement. "Many times, since I was a boy. There have been women I courted, women I thought I might build a life with. But this road does not let a man stay rooted for long."
He watched the sky again. "There was one. Jeyne."
The name lingered between us.
"She was remarkable," he continued. "Sharp-witted. Fierce in her own quiet way."
"Then why did you not stay with her?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. He had rarely spoken so openly before.
He hesitated.
"She was married."
I nearly slipped from my saddle. "Married?"
"I did not know at first," he said calmly. "I discovered the truth when I saw her seated beside a lord at a feast, draped in silks and jewels."
I urged my horse closer. "Did you tell anyone? Surely someone should have known. She could have, no, should have faced judgment."
"Gods, no," he replied at once. "If I had spoken a word, it would have been my head on a spike before sunset."
He faced forward again, the matter settled in his tone.
"The world does not judge all men equally, lad. Remember that."
I gulped and nodded, turning my eyes back to the road as my thoughts grew heavier. Why had life always been so cruel to smallfolk? Why could nobles escape judgment while men like Garrett nearly lost everything over a handful of sheep? Did the Gods truly watch us, or were we little more than dust beneath their notice?
Are we too small for their mercy?
The spiral of my thoughts broke sharply.
"Hold your horse."
Ser Alekyne's voice cut through the air, firm and sudden. I reined in at once and looked where he was looking. Ahead of us sat a broken-down caravan, one wheel collapsed, the canvas slumped and torn. A pair of horses stood nearby, their heads lowered, ribs faintly visible beneath their hides.
"Should we not help them?" I asked without thinking.
"You stay here," he replied without looking back. "I will go ahead and see who they are." He paused, then added, "And whether they are worth helping."
I nodded, swallowing whatever unease crept into my chest.
He pressed his heels to his destrier's flanks and rode forward at a measured pace. It did not take long for him to reach the stranded caravan. Two men in plate stepped out to meet him. Even at a distance, I could see the dull glint of their armour beneath the sun.
Their mouths moved as they spoke, but the wind carried none of it to me.
One of the guards lifted a hand and pointed in my direction. My spine stiffened at once. Yet his attention soon returned to Ser Alekyne.
My Ser sat tall upon his black destrier, reins held steady before him. He did not loom deliberately, yet he seemed to tower over them regardless. There was something in the way he carried himself.
He looked the strongest of the three. More capable.
Yet strength of arms did not always outweigh the strength of banners. Whoever those men served likely held more power than any hedge knight ever could.
After a short exchange, the soldiers gave a nod.
Ser Alekyne lifted his hand and gestured for me to approach.
I did not hesitate. I nudged my horse into a brisk trot, the leather of my saddle creaking beneath me as I closed the distance, trying to look as though I belonged beside him.
"The lad here is my squire," Ser Alekyne said, motioning toward me. "These two, as I have just learned, are Gil and Derrick."
I straightened slightly in my saddle and inclined my head. "It is a pleasure to meet you both."
"The pleasure's ours, lad," said the one called Derrick. He offered a tired smile and a short nod. Up close, I could see the dust caked along the seams of his plate and the sweat darkening the padding beneath. "As you can see, we have found ourselves in a poor situation and could use an extra pair of hands."
"We will assist," Ser Alekyne replied evenly. "But we must be swift. We intend to reach the next town before sundown."
Both men nodded in agreement.
We dismounted together, boots striking the dirt in near unison. I looped my reins over a low branch and stepped closer to the caravan. The damage was worse than it had first appeared. The wheel had not merely cracked. Its lower half was splintered beyond use, spokes snapped like brittle bones. The rim hung in ruin.
"Must have struck a monstrous rock," I muttered, crouching to inspect the break. The wood fibres were torn outward, not cleanly split. Whatever it had hit, it had done so with force.
Ser Alekyne moved to the wagon without another word. He braced his hands on either side of the broken wheel and pulled, testing its weight and balance. The wood groaned in protest, but the axle refused to yield more than a fraction.
He exhaled slowly. "This will not come free easily."
Gil stepped forward. "We were hoping to remove it and fit the spare. Trouble is, we cannot lift the wagon high enough with just the two of us."
I rose to my feet and wiped my hands against my trousers. The wagon bed sagged slightly to one side, cargo shifting within. Barrels, by the sound of it.
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We found ourselves arriving before our final destination, Bitterbridge, the town stretching wide before us in a restless sprawl of timber and stone. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the murmur of voices drifted faintly through the air.
A line of guards stood at the entrance, halberds in hand as they checked those passing through. Merchants were questioned. Carts were searched. Yet when my Ser and I approached, they took one look at his armour and the sigil upon his shield and waved us through without a word.
Benefits of being a knight, I suppose.
I gave a small shrug as we rode deeper into town. The roads were packed earth, flattened by countless boots and wheels. People stepped aside at our approach, some offering respectful nods, others watching with quiet curiosity.
It did not take long before we found an inn. A wooden sign creaked above the door, painted with a coiled snake wrapped around a dagger.
"The Dagger Snake Inn."
An odd name, if you asked me. Still, coin spent the same no matter the sign above the door, and I was in no place to judge.
We stepped inside and approached the counter, where an older man stood waiting with a fixed smile. My Ser spoke first.
"We need a room. On the cheaper end, preferably."
The innkeeper gave a polite nod. "Of course, Ser Knight. Our cheapest room will cost you a stag and a groat."
Ser Alekyne reached into his leather pouch and drew out two silver stags, placing them on the counter. "Keep the change. I have no need for copper."
The man's smile widened slightly at that. He reached beneath the counter and retrieved a pair of clattering keys. "Very good, Ser. Your room is up the stairs, two doors to the left."
Alekyne took the keys and gave a short nod. Then he turned to me.
"Take our equipment upstairs. I will see what information I can gather from the men drinking here."
His attention had already shifted toward the tables where men sat with tankards in hand. I nodded, lifting both bags. One I slung over my shoulder, the other I dragged by its strap. Taking the key, I made for the stairs.
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And with that, ladies and gentlemen, the chapter comes to a close.
I apologise for the incredibly late double upload and hope you can forgive me, but my life has picked up pace once more, and as such, I've been busy with stuff. I will continue trying to post double chapters weekly, and if I cant then I will try and make up for it the following week.
Please, as usual, give me any tips and tricks on how to improve this fanfiction. Make sure not to forget to add this story to your libraries if you have enjoyed it so far, more is to come.
As such, have a good rest of your day/night.
Tac Out