On the training ground of Fire Herb Manor, the Red Viper and Gendry both came lightly equipped, dressed in leather and using blunted weapons. The Red Viper wore the Dornish sun-piercing longspear device, while Gendry bore the sigil of running wolves.
These days, the Red Viper's routine at Fire Herb Manor was simple: watch the Free Company and the Wolf Pack Company, study their structure, and see how this little kingdom kept itself running.
"Careful, Lord Commander!"
The Red Viper's longspear truly moved like a serpent, lunging without warning, slipping away the instant a counter came. The spearhead flickered up and down around Gendry like a forked tongue, feints flowing into real attacks with equal ease, speed and force both relentless. It looked like he was aiming high, then the point rolled and came in again, snapping toward Gendry's groin and shield. The Red Viper circled, stabbed, and sprang back out of range.
He took pride in speed and craft, but the man across from him was no easy prey. Gendry's warhammer was just as quick, and every swing landed with the exact kind of weight that punished even a near miss.
"Black hair, blue eyes, tall, and strong."
The Red Viper's gaze caught on Gendry's jet-black cropped hair and those deep blue eyes, and on the way the young man only grew fiercer as the exchange dragged on, all brute drive and rising aggression. The sight felt strangely familiar. Still, the Red Viper didn't linger on it. The lowborn could produce monsters like The Mountain, and masters like Duncan the Tall too. It was simply rarer than among the noble lords.
"A hard-charging pup. More troublesome than I expected. That style… it feels like the North, or the Stormlands."
The finest fighters of the Stormlands and the North were famed for wild, violent power, and Gendry fit that mold. Then again, considering the Wolf Pack Company's origins, perhaps the answer really was the North.
"So the tales are true," Gendry thought.
The Red Viper, Dorne's greatest warrior, was no hollow reputation. Gendry had sparred against Longspear and Morningstar before, but in pure spearcraft and battlefield experience, the Red Viper was plainly the better man.
The Red Viper's spear drove left and right, appearing where it shouldn't, vanishing when it should have been caught. The head had been treated and blunted, but the impacts still stung, the force biting through leather and into flesh. And yet Gendry's blood only seemed to burn hotter, like a storm surging inside him.
The Red Viper kept jabbing at Gendry's oak shield until the point finally punched through. But before he could wrench the longspear free, Gendry's heavy warhammer crashed down.
The Red Viper snapped his body back at the last instant and barely escaped the blow. Even so, the clash rattled him. There was something massive coiled inside that young frame, and when the weapons met, the shock carried a tremor that left pain in its wake.
The Red Viper turned like a lithe cat and came in again. In his hands the longspear looked alive. At range, the warhammer carried an unavoidable lag, while the longspear was sharper, crueler, more venomous.
The Red Viper drove the point straight at Gendry's heart.
Gendry twisted away, but the movement tore pain through him. He roared and forced himself clear of the spear's shaft, then, despite the agony, brought his hammer around in a counterstrike.
"If you can take that pain and still choose to press the attack," the Red Viper said, eyes bright, "I have to raise my opinion of you."
He snapped the spear back and leveled the pale shaft at Gendry. The Red Viper slid the spear-staff across Gendry's line, pinning his body and killing the swing before the warhammer could land. He continued to give ground, and with a flick of his wrists he could have turned that shaft into a clean line to Gendry's throat.
But he didn't.
He held, letting the moment hang, leaving the bout with a question mark instead of a finishing thrust.
"I've lost, Prince," Gendry said.
On the surface it looked like a draw, but the Red Viper had more than technique. Poison and darker tricks were part of his trade, and a man who truly understood those things was more dangerous than any ordinary knight.
"You haven't lost, boy," the Red Viper said with a smile. "Your courage and strength are both exceptional. What you lack is experience. I've lived a good many more years than you."
He tapped the spear lightly.
"And the longspear, in the end, is still the most agile and the most vicious."
Those watching burst into applause—Steel Fist, Longspear, and the Unsullied among them. After all, they had just seen the Wolf Pack Company's Lord Commander fight the greatest knight of the age to a standstill.
"How long have you trained, Lord Commander?" the Red Viper asked.
"A few years, more or less," Gendry replied.
In truth, it hadn't been many. The early years had been spent at the forge. But raw, inborn strength translated well enough to a fight.
"Impressive. Truly impressive." The Red Viper did not hide his admiration. "Such talent is rare."
He could not help wondering. With skill like this, had the boy been born to a famed house, he would have risen to prominence long ago. Why cross the Narrow Sea to scrape out a living? There was only one likely answer: a lowborn man from Westeros, with no path upward at home.
The Red Viper studied Gendry's build again, weighing him with his eyes.
'Shorter. Leaner. Yet the force behind those blows is overwhelming, far greater than his frame suggests. And because the King of Fire Herb is lighter, he's quicker too. Give him time… he might surpass both me and The Mountain.'
"Your skill is truly excellent, Lord Commander. I haven't enjoyed myself like this in a long while. If you don't find me a nuisance, I'd like a few more bouts with you."
"The honor would be mine, Prince."
"In that case, it seems we really do have grounds for cooperation."
"Then let us drink in advance to our future friendship."
...
The Red Viper and Gendry walked over the low hills of Fire Herb Manor. The Fire Herb had already been harvested, and fresh seedlings were sprouting, turning the fields into a wide sweep of green.
"When I walk beside a young Lord Commander like you, I have no choice but to admit I'm growing old," Oberyn said with a faint sigh.
"You are in your prime, Prince. Why say that?"
"No need to comfort me. There's already white in my hair." He smiled thinly. "Growing old isn't the worst part. The worst part is that my wish remains unfulfilled."
Gendry knew that wish well: to kill The Mountain, and the man behind him. It was no easy task, especially now that House Lannister stood at the height of its power.
"Men are always bound by their desires," Gendry said.
"When I was young, I loved to travel. The happiest journey I remember was visiting Casterly Rock with my mother, her consort, and my sister Elia. She had been frail since childhood and rarely left home. Everything seemed new to her."
His voice grew quieter.
"I was a monster in those days. I mocked my sister's suitors. I should have cut out my own venomous tongue." He let out a breath. "After my sister died, I came to loathe my younger self."
"I have waited year after year, and there seems no end to it. All I feel is age creeping closer. Especially when I see young talents like you," he added, glancing at Gendry.
"May the old gods and the new grant that you achieve your wish soon, Prince."
Oberyn laughed.
"I stopped believing in the Seven long ago. I trust only myself. If the Seven truly existed, I should have been the firstborn and avenged my sister—not Doran."
He looked at Gendry again.
"Tell me, Lord Commander, won't you speak of your past?"
"There's not much to tell. I had no father. I was a smith once, until I joined the Wolf Pack Company and trained under its instructors."
"So heroes can rise from flea pits after all," Oberyn said lightly. "It wouldn't be the first time. Think of Duncan the Tall of the previous dynasty."
"But that's all behind me," he continued after a pause. "What matters is the present. I want my wish fulfilled."
He fell into thought.
"What I need… may simply be a variable. Doran has told me more than once that the variable lies in the future. I've waited long enough, yet nothing has come of it."
He stopped and fixed Gendry with a burning stare.
"And now it seems that variable might be you."