In the gardens of The Eyrie, that beautiful falcon soared through the air, white as honor itself. Beyond the window stretched a fine blue sky, where white drifting clouds came and went.
The Eyrie had now been put in proper order. The Guardians' Alliance of the Vale had been established, replacing Lysa's absurd rule.
The Young Lord's protector, Gendry, heir to the Iron Throne, served as chief guardian. The others were Bronze Yohn Royce, Lord Nestor Royce, steward of the Vale, Lord Mark Grafton of Gulltown, Lady Anya Waynwood of Ironoaks, Ser Vardis, Captain of the Guard, and Maester Colemon of House Arryn.
Put simply, they were regents for Great Lord Robert Arryn, exercising ruling authority on his behalf while the Great Lord was underage or unable to handle affairs of state.
Among them, Gendry served as a protector and would not interfere too much. He was happy to spare himself the trouble. He was not the sort of person who handled every matter personally. A ruler only needed to know how to use the right people in order to command them. The rest of the affairs had been handled by these same men even when Lord Jon and Lysa were in charge. Nestor had been the steward of the Vale and Keeper of Gates of the Moon Castle for more than ten years. Colemon was the Maester, and Vardis was the captain of the Arryn household guard. These three were men loyal to House Arryn of The Eyrie. Bronze Yohn represented the second-greatest lordly house in the Vale, Lord Mark represented the formidable power of Gulltown, and Lady Anya represented the second heir, "Foolish Harry."
Once the duties of the Guardians' Alliance were clearly divided, the whole of The Eyrie became especially lively, with most people so busy they could hardly catch their breath. The lords and knights of the Vale had finally broken free from their courtship games around Lysa, and now they had to face a new war of vengeance.
"I want you to investigate this thoroughly," Bronze Yohn ordered Captain Vardis and Lord Nestor.
"As you command!" Ser Vardis led the sky-blue-cloaked soldiers of House Arryn through The Eyrie, while Lord Nestor left The Eyrie in a hurry and returned to Gates of the Moon Castle.
The first matter in The Eyrie was to root out any remnants of Lysa Tully and Littlefinger's influence. As it turned out, there were some, but very few. Littlefinger had neither the ability nor the time to plant deep roots in The Eyrie, and Ser Vardis and Lord Nestor were both trusted men of the old Lord Arryn. As for Lysa, with her violent and irritable temper, few people were willing to serve that woman, let alone act as her lackeys. The second matter was for the lords and knights of the Vale present to line up and swear loyalty to the duties of the guardians, supporting them in protecting the frail orphan of House Arryn. The third was to cut off all news and prevent Lysa's folly from leaking out, while finding a way to eliminate Littlefinger's forces.
In the narrow hall of The Eyrie, lords and knights now stood in line to swear allegiance to the new heir of the Iron Throne and to the Guardians' Alliance. After Gendry finished accepting the lords' fealty, he freed himself from their honeyed words. The lords of the Vale were more than happy to offer loyalty to a lawful heir, especially when their new master possessed strong military power and ample wealth. Now the lords and knights surged toward Bronze Yohn, Ser Vardis, and the others in charge of the guardians' duties. Many gathered in the council chamber to make sacred vows to defend House Arryn and uphold the Guardians' Alliance.
At the center of The Eyrie's garden, under the gaze of Alyssa's statue, many Vale knights and servants were watching a splendid longsword match. It might have been a smaller contest, but the quality of the duel was exceptional.
Gendry was tall and vigorous, dressed in black plate armor with a golden quartered surcoat over it. His short black hair brought to mind Aegon the Conqueror of old. Ser Lyn Corbray of the Vale was as lean as a blade, with shoulder-length brown hair. Over his steel armor, his white surcoat bore three ravens, each clutching a broken heart in its beak. The gold and white storm collided, and sword light flashed through the air.
The clang of two blunted swords shattered the silence in the garden. Gendry swung his heavy blunted sword, and Ser Lyn met it with his own. The ring of steel left the onlookers' ears buzzing. Ser Lyn rocked backward, and Gendry stepped forward in pursuit like a cheetah hunting wild prey. Their longswords clashed, moving as fast as the wind, the blades blurring into streaks of light and shadow.
Gendry's blunted sword struck Ser Lyn, first crashing into his steel armor and carving a long mark across it, making his blood surge and his footing falter. Then Lyn swept upward with a backhanded counter, but Gendry's blunted sword once again arrived later yet struck first. The two blunted swords collided again, this time in a pure contest of strength and speed. Lyn's forehead was covered in sweat. He used all his strength to drive that longsword away, but the force on it bore down like a mountain, while his opponent stood as solid as a boulder.
Gendry looked at Ser Lyn, the pressure on his sword never slackening, forcing Lyn back again and again until he had no room to fight back.
"I've lost!" Lyn staggered back several steps before finally shedding that force. His whole body felt stiff and sore. With a bitter smile, he wiped the sweat from his face and planted his longsword on the ground. Then he gave the onlookers an elegant bow, and the cheers grew even louder.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
"Lyn!"
"Lyn!"
The spectators screamed, clapped, and cheered for the swordsmen they each admired. The people of the Vale had always been seen as reliable warriors worthy of respect and full of honor, so naturally they loved nothing more than a brilliant knightly duel.
Even if Ser Lyn had lost, he had lost to one of the strongest warriors of the age.
"It seems it will be very hard for me to win," Lyn said, gripping his blunted sword. "When swordsmen clash, victory usually isn't decided so quickly. But this time, my loss felt far too natural..."
Gendry also had to admit that Ser Lyn was indeed a dangerous swordsman. His endurance, strength, and swordsmanship were unmatched in the Vale. Gendry enjoyed dueling masters like him. After all, there were not many swordsmen in the world who could last more than a few rounds against him.
Next came another longsword match. A certain blue-cloaked knight of the Vale worked up the courage to challenge Ser Brynden the Blackfish, so Ser Brynden had no choice but to step onto the field.
Gendry, Ser Lyn, Ser Barristan, and Anguy walked together onto the balcony, watching the flashing blades in the garden below from above. It was a little quieter here. They were still waiting for someone else to arrive. Lord Nestor would be bringing them an acquaintance.
"Prince, Ser Barristan. To be honest, I accepted quite a bit of money from Littlefinger. Some of it was borrowed, and some was given," Lyn admitted to them.
Gendry did not take it seriously. "Almost every knight in the Vale has taken money from him, haven't they?"
Lyn nodded. "I am always short of money, and Littlefinger is famous for his generosity."
Gendry nodded. "Knights may look splendid, but the expenses are certainly not small." Although Lyn was the heir to House Corbray, House Corbray itself was an ancient but declining house. Moreover, Lyn's elder brother had always resented him for carrying Lady Forlorn, so there was no chance of Heart's Home providing him support.
"So quite a few lords and knights went to Littlefinger for help, but it seems we were all deceived," Lyn complained. "Littlefinger had no family of his own and no standing as an old noble house, so everyone thought of him as a good man. None of us expected his ambition to be so much greater than we imagined."
"He may not have married because of Lysa," Ser Barristan said. "He needed Lysa's support and could not leave that woman."
"Littlefinger is an ungrateful jackal," Lyn cursed viciously. "Lord Hoster took him in, and Lord Arryn raised him up. That bastard repaid both houses like this. I will let my lady drink her fill."
"How large is your shortfall?" Gendry asked Lyn directly.
"About... about every month..." Lyn stammered. "Buying clothes, paying for boys when I seek them out. I always pay, so my expenses are rather high. My brother is always short of money too, let alone able to fill my gaps for me. I rely on tourneys and such to scrape together a few golden dragons. Oh, and selling squire positions. But selling squire positions brings money too slowly. I still have to shape those squires into something presentable, or they'll make me lose face."
Ser Barristan frowned as he listened. Money truly could make things difficult even for heroes, and Lyn's expenses were not small. There were many fallen knights like Lyn in the Vale, but many Vale knights were both poor and particular. Even Littlefinger would not find them very convenient to use and would rather employ Sellswords from elsewhere.
"If you are willing to protect Lord Robert and The Eyrie, I will give you an equal reward, and I guarantee it will be more generous than Littlefinger's."
"Prince, talking about money is a bit vulgar, but I can take the gift as a sign that the Storm values me. But I do not have to serve as Lord Robert's master-at-arms, do I?" Lyn asked. "I can use a sword, but I do not have the patience to teach a foolish boy. I would go mad. No amount of money would make me do it."
"Do not worry. I only want you to protect little Robert," Gendry assured him. "And before long, you will have a chance to make a fortune."
Ser Lyn nodded. If it was a windfall, most of it would probably come from Littlefinger.
"My sister is here," Gendry said to Lyn.
"Oh, that would be Mychel Redfort's girl, wouldn't it? Lucky lad." Ser Lyn very tactfully invited Anguy to leave the balcony with him. This was the right stage for the reunited siblings.
Mychel Redfort had once been his squire, one of the finest young swordsmen in the Vale and a man of exceptional courage. Of course, he had earned that place as squire through both talent and the gold Lord Horton had provided, not merely through gold alone.
The stout Lord Nestor once again led in a tall young woman dressed like a noble lady. Even in noble clothing, she still looked awkward. It was obvious she was not used to it, and some of the clothes did not quite fit. No one knew whether they had been pulled from Lysa's wardrobe or from Lord Nestor's daughter's closet.
Mya walked onto the balcony in a daze. In the past, she had been the girl who escorted supplies to The Eyrie along the mountain roads. Now she had suddenly become the honored "Lady Mya" in Lord Nestor's mouth. The way people had gone from coldness to deference made her feel as though the world had changed too quickly.
The knights all saluted her in unison, and even the ongoing sword match came to a halt. Once dressed in women's clothes, this donkey-driving girl did have a certain charm. Her most striking feature was her eyes, large and blue.
"That Mychel lad is blessed. If the Storm becomes king, he will be the king's brother-in-law."
"Seven gods above, Lord Leyton will laugh himself to death in his dreams." The knights and servants spoke with envy and jealousy.
"Lady Mya, it seems your marriage to Ser Mychel is settled," Ser Lyn said with a smile when he met Mya along the way. "When you rise high, do not forget us."
Mya stood there blankly, not even knowing how to thank him.
When Mya and Gendry met, Lord Nestor tactfully withdrew into the garden as well, leaving only the white knight Ser Barristan nearby to guard them.
Gendry looked at Mya. She was a tall, sturdy young woman. Her coal-black hair had been cut unevenly and looked rather messy, while her eyes were deep blue.
Gendry looked at Mya. The seed is strong. This was the power of bloodline, and that power made them alike. Though they had never met before, they were both tall, with coal-black hair and blue eyes. Her temperament was said to resemble King Robert's as well: cheerful, optimistic, very stubborn, and somewhat quick-tempered. Lord Nestor had said that he had arranged several matches for Mya, but she had never agreed to any of them. She had refused them all.
"Prince Gendry! They say you are my brother, and that I am King Robert's daughter," Mya said hesitantly, her eyes still full of confusion.
Gendry shook his head. Sunlight fell across his face, and he smiled faintly. "It is true. Call me Gendry. There is no need to call me Prince or lord. You are my sister. We are family."
"It is true. You are the eldest daughter of the late King Robert, by the gods as my witness. Jon, Eddard, and the late King Robert all knew it," the old knight added. "When the late King died, I witnessed the will he left behind with my own eyes. All bastards were legitimized. You should be called Baratheon. It was only Lysa of the Vale, that traitor, who refused to acknowledge it."
Mya froze where she stood, completely at a loss. She was only a bastard daughter, a girl who carried supplies along the mountain roads. People had once mocked her by saying her father was a donkey. Yet today, her identity had been turned upside down. The contrast left her dizzy. She did not really know who her father was. She had long since lost any clear memory of him. The only vague impression she still had was of a tall, black-haired man who often tossed her into the air when she was little.
"Ser Mychel is quite fortunate. If not for him, I would have found you another suitable marriage," Gendry said, looking at Mya. Ser Mychel was only a second son, and in terms of marriage alliance value, he was not very significant.
"Thank you. Thank you. He is good to me..." Mya stammered.
"Do not thank me. This is the final gift the late King left us," Gendry said. A gift stained with blood. If he wished to gain the throne, he would have to avenge the late King.
"But I... I do not want to be some princess. This is my home. I grew up in the Vale."
"You may live as you wish, but you need to accept your new identity, sister," Gendry said with a smile. Bloodline, family, and continuity. This was the world knights ought to protect.
The duty of protecting the world belonged to men, while women could perhaps enjoy the beauty of life. Since Gendry had no blood ties in the Vale and could not marry into the Vale's lordly houses himself, having a sister living in the Vale was not a bad thing. Besides, she could also keep track of what was happening in The Eyrie.
"The late King once had more than a dozen children, but now only we remain." Gendry looked at her. Mya, himself, Edric, Bella, and perhaps Barra. That was all. The late King most likely knew only of Mya, Edric, himself, and Barra.
Most of the children who had been exposed or discovered had already been silenced, erased as evidence. Edric had Renly's protection. Mya had Jon's, and she was a girl besides. As for the others, they had never been discovered.
"Perhaps I should thank Varys?" Gendry thought. If Varys had not found him and sent him to the smithy, he would most likely have been dead as well. Since the eunuch had saved his life, perhaps he could grant him a quick death.
Mya finally could not hold back her tears. She wept for her fate, turned over and over by forces beyond her control; for the brothers and sisters she had never met; and for the fatherly love she had never truly received.