Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods - Chapter 137: Announcements & Dances

Chapter 137: Announcements & Dances

Thank you for your patience, Dear Readers.

Duncan_Randar is back bright and strong after sniffing some mountain air and keeping (as much as possible) away from electronic devices! Here is a new chapter for you, as promised!

Happy Reading!

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POV: The Frosty Queen of Spices

Main Table.

A few minutes after a reluctant father decided to accept the humiliating fate that awaited his Ancient, Respected and Honorable Household…

There was still a need to wait a few minutes; Prince Doran suffered from gout and was unable to move quickly.

A platform and a small podium for two people less than four feet high were placed in the centre of the small square of the main tables. The newlyweds already stood a couple of heads taller than the listening spectators.

Barbrey took advantage of the wait to rework in her mental archives the most precious gifts she and her husband had received from this magical and historic event…

The first place had indisputably been taken by the very generous Carcosa.

She was followed by Braavos with her three gifts, the shield, the pearl, and the fruitful and peaceful trade agreement wrested from the new General Manager of the Never Winter Bank.

The Spider Queen occupied the third by donating no less than two precious protective undercoats made of pure Acromantula Silk, the rarest and most sought-after fabric in the Known World of which The Watcher’s Organization held the absolute Monopoly.

A garment as light as a feather but as durable as dragon skin. Acromantula Silk provided protection as ironclad as triple chain mail of the finest steel.

It was the scourge of any assassin armed with dagger or poison darts, for in addition to being adequate to any lethal blade or point outside the magical steel of Valyria and, very soon, Mott Steel, the silk generated by magical creatures that favoured as sustenance every known kind of poison, absorbed and neutralized any poison in contact with it.

Barbrey personally heard, from nobles and magisters, many whispers and hallway cackles against the ‘ungallant and sophisticated’ attire worn by The Watcher at banquets and celebrations.

Very few knew that the man’s robe was proof against standard weapons and even resistant to magic…

The best spells of The Guardian of Magic, The Guardian of Beauty and The Sect Leader of the House of Black and White had been imprinted in those finely wrought weavings of Silk of the rarest Ancient Acromantula. Even Red Rain, Longclaw, or Ice would have had difficulty damaging Zick’s robe armour.

The value of such an artefact was not estimable, nor could it be exchanged for simple gold…

As soon as House Mormont provided the glass needed to build the promised greenhouses, Dorne could begin commercial collaboration with The Spider Queen.

The Acromantulas needed a warm, sterile, moist environment chock-full of poisonous prey to weave their egg cocoons. There was only one known place in Sothoryus dominated by such poison-loving predatory magical beasts.

It would not have been easy to reproduce a suitable artificial environment. Still, the lands of Dorne possessed three of the four necessary conditions, and the engineering designs of House Tallhart and Mormont Glass would make up for the last.

The guests who earned Fourth Place on the ‘Best Wedding Gifts’ hierarchy arrived.

It was time.

“Gracious guests of Barrowton, House Mormont and the entire North! Thank you all for gathering so far just to hear one of our boring and spoiling announcements. Even if it means forgoing the seventh most expensive and most delicious last course of the banquet…” Moderate bursts of hilarity and approval pervaded the spectating crowd.

“My husband and I, before you gentle Lords and you mischievous Gentlewomen Ladies, rudely undress us for the ‘Bedding’ ceremony…”

“Yeeargh!” “To bed! To bed!” Barbrey let the drunker in the mood for revelry give vent to their merriment. Then she continued.

“My husband Jorah and I wanted to thank you again for your magnificent gifts, but more importantly, for your presence here at our Barrowton wedding.” Another small wave of appreciative nods and applause resounded through the crowd, the loudest being undoubtedly the Northern nobles.

“Having said that, I will have to make a confession to you, your Majesties, my Lords, Ladies and egregious nobility of the East…” silence took over the hubbub.

“There are three houses very closely connected with Barrowton who were aware of this wedding long before you… And who, by virtue of this event, have long since prepared to bestow upon me and my groom incredible gifts. And therefore, it is my and my husband’s duty, here before you, to thank especially said friends and family benefactors.

The first lord I would like to thank is Ser Helman Tallhart!… Step forward, milord.

Let us encourage Ser Helman with a round of applause.” The crowd responded enthusiastically. Greatjon Umber shoved the poor man with a devastating friendly pat, nearly knocking him over.

“Here he is, our hero!” the applause diminished soon after Lady Barbrey called for attention.

“Six years ago, my good friend Ser Helman was the first to recommend that I know the virtues and merits of my honourable husband, spurring us both to give ourselves a second chance after our sad losses…

And before Winter came, my heart had already been won by our ‘Icy Bronze Bear on Fire,'” Barbrey smiled amicably as she cast a subtle glance at an enraged Lioness in the front row.

“But beyond this priceless gift, Ser Helman proposed a project…

I would emphasise a grand project of collaboration between Barrowton and Torrhen’s Square, incorrectly leveraging a poor lady in love,” Helman smiled at her with complicity and admission of guilt, and she returned the gesture generating another jovial hilarity in the audience.

“{The Silk Road} was the name of that Grand Project. We both dreamed of creating a that would manage Mercantile-Road-Town to rise above any other trade route across the continent…

It would have required an iron and assiduous cooperation, the best master designers and builders, rivers of gold to invest out-of-pocket, and hundreds of thousands of drops of sweat and blood of the valuable arms of the North and Essos lending their will and manpower…

And, both of us are pleased to report that such work has recently been completed!” The orchestra accompanied the final announcement by decorating it with several roaring cheers.

Both Helman and Barbrey bowed to the crowd.

“The largest Road-Mercantile ever created in Westeros, more than a hundred and fifty feet wide and seven miles long… Seven miles of brand new and enchanting villas and dwellings, stores, markets, recreation centres, pleasure houses, auction centres, taverns, inns, high-class restaurants, ‘new institutions,’ and many… many more centres of cultural and commercial exchange…

By now, I think many noble knights and jousting beaus seeking glory and entertainment must have asked themselves, “But where are the promised tournament facilities?” Am I right? ”

There were many assents to the question.

“Well, my noble lords and ladies, it will be in this new modern facility that amusements, prizes and heroic deeds await you, along with many other winnings not yet announced!” A clangour of amazement and anticipated curiosity flooded the area.

“Fear not, my Lords, all of you will be comfortably escorted with all the comforts worthy of your lustre on this adventurous half-day carriage ride that awaits us tomorrow.

There will be lodging and celebratory pageantry for all of you.

This is the second gift bestowed upon us by House Tallhart: Never-before-seen Celebrations, Spectacles and Festivities!”

A great wave of applause came along with the orchestra’s notes, and the cheers lasted for more than a minute.

****

Three minutes later.

“Now, I would like to call, here on the podium, the two remaining great benefactors of mine…

The Protector of the North and Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, and my beloved nephew, the Lord of Dreadfort, Domeric Bolton. Another round of applause.”

The imposing wolf advanced with his daughter Sansa holding the little one by the hand. Domeric came from behind.

“The greatest gift an aunt could receive was bestowed by our two honourable Great Lords of the North…Milord Eddard, would you do us the honour of the announcement?” Barbrey stepped back to Jorah’s side, leaving room for the three main actors.

“Your majesties, honourable lords and ladies, and archons, triarchs and nobles of distant and ancient cities, Lord Domeric and I are pleased to announce to you all that very soon, House Stark and House Bolton will surprise the entire Known World with new product lines…

New items that, if Lord Jorah allows me to dare to compare…may even overshadow the incredible masterpieces of Bear Island!” Hundreds of greedy lords, ladies, and merchants roared an ovation of wonder and surprise. The representatives of the Iron Bank were the only ones to show discomfort…

Many spectators could not resist asking impatiently in a loud voice:

“What are they?!”, “What product line will House Stark and House Bolton launch?!”, “Tell us, milord!”

This time, it was her nephew who stepped forward.

“You will have to be patient a little longer, milords and miladies. A demonstration performance will await you in the day before the tournament begins, that is, four days from today…” a small roar of dissent followed after the cruel news.

“But we can tell you that many unexpected prizes for melee and quintain will await all of you noble warriors.” Said Lord Stark, supporting his allied vassal, and continued:

“Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Jaime Lannister and all the remaining ‘Heroic Hundred Valiant Volunteers’ turn to you…

‘The North Does Not Forget’, Heroes of Pyke.

In four days, all of you will have a token of recognition offered by the North for your bravery, valour and heroic deeds that have spared thousands of Kingdom lives in this war.

It will be you, Heroes, who will be the first to enjoy the well-deserved humble privileges that Winterfell and Dreadfort can offer.” The two Royal Guards and a few other knights present bowed, obtaining jubilation, applause and a few envious glances.

“Having said that, I am pleased to announce that I, Lord Eddard Stark, having entered into perpetual and unbreakable cooperation with Barrowton, Dreadfort and Torrhen’s Square, have requested Lord Domeric to seal this commercial partnership in blood and love…

And he graciously agreed.

As soon as my daughter, Sansa of House Stark, reaches a suitable age, she will join Lord Domeric in the sacred bond of marriage.

Soon, House Stark and House Bolton will become one great family!”

*Spoosh!* a hundred doves hovered from beneath the podium as Barrowton’s attendants simultaneously tossed blue rose petals to decorate the scene.

The Lord of Dreadfort gathered the one stunning blue rose at his feet and knelt down to reach the height of his auburn-haired bride-to-be to offer her a token of love. As planned, Sansa Stark accepted the rose and gently kissed her gallant betrothed on the cheek, melting hundreds of hearts.

Domeric gently grasped the hand of the Northern princess, snatching an embarrassed smile from her, and bowed to the audience, which reached the height of jubilation and celebratory clamour.

****

Three minutes later…

Helman Tallhart, her brothers Roger and Rickard, Medger Cerwyn, Rickard Karstark and Galbart Glover were ready to welcome her for the long-awaited ‘Bedding.’

That foolish Cersei thought she could propose ‘a Crown Witness’ to lay her in the bridal thalamus…

Myra Tallhart, Maege Mormont, Lyessa Flint, Berysa Cerwyn, Donella Manderly and Linnet Umber waited amidst cackles and little laughter for Her Jorah.

“To Bed!”, “To Bed!”, “To Bed!” the time had come for the newlyweds to make this union carnally official.

“Come on, Ned! Give the order!” roared Robert Baratheon with a resounding pat on the back of the Protector of the North.

Ned Stark stepped forward and thundered:

“Let Lady Barbrey and Lord Jorah be escorted to the wedding, thalamus!”

“YEEAAARG!!!” exploded the crowd.

The Bear smiled at her, and The Maiden Fair returned it with the same surrendered, eager look.

Lord and Lady Mormont abandoned themselves to their demure fate…

End POV.

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POV: Eddara Tallhart

Dance Floor.

A few minutes after harassing screams and shrieks offensive to the Royal Family forced the Chief Herald to anticipate the opening of the dances by ordering the orchestra to unleash high notes…

Benfred was busy dancing with Margery Tyrell, Eddard Karstark was with her cousin Jonelle, and not even Halys Hornwood could save her.

Eddara’s list of helper dancers was so minimal…

‘Where the heck has Lancel gotten himself into? Damn it!’ Eddara wanted to escape or sink into the shadows. But, she could give no more attention to that traitor Bolton…

Domeric was looking for her, she realized, and only the wall of hosts could still conceal her presence. Twenty-six letters…twenty-six damn letters enough to write a book, and that filthy liar had never mentioned anything to her about this marriage.

The poems, the secret love letters … that dance … all false lies.

The scene of the engagement announcement, the rose and the kiss traumatized the Torrhen’s Square maiden enormously, with her heart now broken.

Eddara would have immediately sought comfort from her tears in the arms of her mother, Benfred or Duncan if all of them had not been engaged or kidnapped by someone.

Who could she ask to dance? Eddara did not want to stoop to asking some slimy squire or knight from the South for rescue.

Maester Qyburn had warned her about all potential ‘unsavoury’ or ‘insincere’ guests.

The squires of the Stormlands and Crown Lands were undoubtedly among the worst…

Eddara excelled in History and Heraldry; according to Qyburn, she had an impressive visual memory.

‘House Connington… mmm, no. Ronnet Connington is a little shit under that false smile, and Bryce Caron is even worse…

A striding huntsman in red on a green field, House Tarly…’ the girl moved quickly in the direction of her target.

“Oh, but who is this graceful noble maiden?” Asked what must have been Melessa Florent/Tarly along with the chubby firstborn of Horn Hill.

“My name is Eddara Tallhart, Lady Tarly. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Randyll Tarly’s wife stiffened suddenly, and only for a moment did the maiden of Torrhen’s Square notice a gleam in the lady’s eyes…

It seemed that Melessa Tarly was still unfamiliar with the new coat of arms of House Tallhart…. she must have mistaken her for the daughter of a minor noble from the North.

“L-Lady Eddara, b-but what a pleasant surprise. The honour is ours alone. Isn’t that right, Samwell? Come on, Sam, say hello to Lord Helman’s young daughter.” The lady forcefully tugged the seven-year-old half-hidden among her gown.

“M-my pleasure, l-lady E-Edd-Eddara…” was definitely still a hopeless case, but at least she was not cruel and profiteering scum. But unfortunately, the maiden seeking to safeguard her honour had to make do with the stuttering and clumsy aspirant.

“My pleasure, Lord Samwell. May I request the honour of a dance, valiant knight of Horn Hill?” The child was overwhelmed by requests, gasping and shaking like a leaf.

“Of course, he would! Sam would be honoured!” The greatest lover and purchaser of Northern produce in all the Reach pushed the plump child into Eddara’s hands.

****

About three minutes later…

“Auch!” Eddara’s foot was stepped on for the fourth time.

“I-I’m sorry, I… I’m terrible at dancing.” Samwell apologized.

Domeric twirled for the third time in search of her gaze as she danced in the company of Meera Reed.

“Never mind, Sam… you’re not that bad. Trust me, my older brother was even worse.” Eddara ignored the Lord of Dreadfort for the third time, focusing her attention on her knight.

“B-Bloody Snow worse than me? I-impossible!” Samwell.

“Are you calling me a liar, Lord Tarly?” Eddara asked ironically, but unfortunately, the poor man did not get the joke.

“I-I n-not, m-milady. I-I wouldn’t dare.” Samwell trembled in terror.

“Relax, Sam, I was only joking… Eh, yes, my mother forced Duncan to dance with her or me for more than a half-year in preparation for the Torrhen’s Square Tournament. Even my five-year-old twin looked like a water dancer compared to Duncan. Ahaha,” Samwell breathed again, decreasing the shaking.

The pair twirled near a small group of envious nobles from the Reach.

“Hey, Lady Tarly piggy, be careful not to trip your dame.” “Ahahah! Where’s your apple, lady pig?” Horas Redwine and a couple of fellow Peake and Fossway mocked poor Sam, whose face turned purple with shame.

“Words are wind, Sam; let that filthy breath slip away.” The encouragement did not seem to toughen her knight, who continued to stiffen more and more.

Eddara tried to think of something else…

“You know, I once heard my brother Duncan talking about you…” The child’s shiny eyes rose in curiosity.

“A-About me?”

“Yes, before he left for Dorne. I was in lesson with Maester Qyburn, intent on questioning Benfred and me about the lineages of the Reach. Duncan was nearby in his research, and when I mentioned the name of Randyll Tarly’s firstborn son, he said:

‘Ah! Sam the Slayer! I almost forgot about the Wizard Slayer!'” Sam’s eyes widened.

“D-did he? And why did he call me W-Wizard Slayer?” the child asked more boldly.

“Ah, don’t ask me. Sometimes my brother travels in a fantasy world of his own, haha…

Did you happen to kill any Evil Wizards in the past, Sam?” Eddara asked jovially.

“Me?! No, milady. I-I love magic. I would never kill a wizard… I used to dream of becoming a wizard, m-but m-my father says that magics no longer exist and that they are cursed by the Seven and that someday I will have to become a great knight…” Explained Sam.

“Your father is wrong. Magic still persists in the world today, Sam.

Maester Qyburn says that, during the Age of Heroes, the continent had so many researchers of magic that they outnumbered all the maesters of Westeros.

I have seen wizards use real magic…” Samwell’s gaze changed suddenly.

“Are you serious, milady? Real magicians?!” They were the first sensible sentences the clumsy child managed not to eat himself and pronounce correctly….

“Can you keep a secret, Sam?” Eddara asked, attracting the full attention of a dreamy boy who promptly nodded.

“Do you see those two kids over there?… Yes, them.

They are Lord Eddard’s sons, Robb Stark and Jon Snow. As soon as the song ends, run over to them. Robb had invited me earlier to attend a private magic show.

If you wish to see a real magicians live at work, join the group.

Go ahead and tell them I sent you.”

*****

End Chapter.

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