Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods - Chapter 172: Someone to Protect (IV)

Chapter 172: Someone to Protect (IV)

*****Forgive me for the delay, dear readers. I am currently working as an errand boy and the Christmas period is… simply hell.

I will try to publish a new chapter for Christmas and New Year. Once the war of Santa’s assistants in the pay of Amazon is over, I will resume at the usual pace.

Happy Reading!

P.S. Tip for readers…. Never get too attached to the pets of the Asoiaf world.

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POV: Benfred Tallhart

Silk Road, Kings’ District, near the mansion used to house House Lannister.

The morning after a Lady and Knight of the Riverlands met (Five hours before the start of the tournament)

——-

Dawn had recently broken. The fourth dawn in a row in which Benfred headed towards his pageboy duties. Towards the momentary abode of the cramped, fierce, and not sympathetic Old Lion.

At least, for that short stretch of road from Tallhart Manor to the Lannister Manor, besides the aromas of hot brioche and fresh spices hovering in the air, the boy could enjoy the company of his brother Duncan. Moments with his brother were becoming increasingly rare, and they would become even more so in the future…

Benfred didn’t want to leave his home, his family and his twin sister. Even Maester Qyburn’s boring lessons he would miss.

Soon, the boy would have to leave for Casterly Rock, to the unknown lands of Leo. While his sister, Eddara, would head with the Martell delegation to the Water Gardens. For as long as he could remember, Benfred and Eddara had never been apart from each other for more than a day…

The duo headed at a leisurely pace down the back road, well escorted by eight Tallhart’s men and a lame dog, Bark, his faithful new best friend. So named for his shaggy brown coat that, when placed near an oak trunk, could blend in almost perfectly with the shrub.

“Duncan…” his brother turned to look at him, “Yes, brother?”

“Do I really have to go to Casterly Rock…? I don’t want to be that man’s page. Lord Tywin is not a good person. He is stiff, ruthless, opportunistic and haughty. And every time he looks at me, he makes me feel more like a bag of gold of his own than a human being.” Said the ten-year-old, making his brother and the whole escort stop.

“Mh, mh… Ahaha! Yes, it’s true; it is. But you forgot the adjectives ‘Cunning’ and ‘Cold’ in the description. Pff…Ahaha!” Replied his brother laughing to himself.

“Look at me being serious…! So? Do I really have to…? If you interceded on our father, I’m sure you could convince him-” Duncan interrupted.

“It was me who persuaded our father and mother to send you and Eddara to apprentice in the Westlands and Dorne, Benfred…” The younger brother was shocked, almost finding it hard to believe. Duncan had always been overprotective of the twins, almost competing with their mother. But, no… it had to be a lie.

“You are lying… You just want to take the blame from our father. Look, all of Torrhen’s Square has heard the hysterical screams of our lady mother.” After his father Helman and Duncan returned from their expedition to the Iron Islands, Torrhen’s Square welcomed all the Tallhart heroes returning from the war with a feast. An evening of celebration was marred by a night of screaming and crying from the patronal chamber.

“I’m not lying… I’m the one who had one of the worst nights of my life that day. Did you not notice that Lady Myra did not speak to me for over a week?” Duncan replied.

“Y-you?! B-But, why? Why do you want to send us away?” Benfred asked, his breath short and his eyes beginning to grow moist. The boy started to feel betrayed and rejected by his landmark. Duncan reached out and placed his cold hands between his cheeks and neck, putting aside his playful grin.

“I don’t want to send you away, Benfred. ‘I must’… I am sure Maester Qyburn has explained to you the political importance of a protégé among the various Houses of Westeros.” Benfred nodded, straining to hold back his tears. Then his brother continued:

“House Tallhart, the North, indeed all of Westeros needs your contribution to keep the peace. Your and our sister’s contribution will bring enormous benefits to the continent, and I am not speaking of mere ‘Hostages’…

On the surface, Lord Tywin Lannister may be a harsh and unpleasant person, but he is also one of the best minds in Westeros. A Lord who has led his Household and all Seven Kingdoms to stability and greatness for years. I want you to stand by the man for as long as he serves. Serve him, obey orders, listen, observe, study, and learn from him as much as possible.

One day, Torrhen’s Square will be yours. It will be up to you to safeguard the future of our House.” So explained Duncan, throwing him a second shocking revelation, to say the least.

“No…! Torrhen’s Square is up to you! You are the eldest son and heir of our father! I don’t want-” Benfred’s groans were interrupted a second time.

“I am travelling a different road, brother. A perilous road, full of pitfalls and uncertainties. And I am certainly not immune to death…” Benfred sobbed, and his brother added immediately: “Difficult to kill me and hard to die, yes… but not impossible. Moreover, it is very likely that one day, not too far from this, I will marry Dacey Mormont.

My place will be in Barrowton or Mormont Keep, and my sons and daughters will be the heirs of House Mormont. So, yes, it is almost a given that you may become the next Master of Torrhen’s Square.”

Then Duncan asked, ‘But will you be worthy? Will you do what must be done to prove yourself worthy in taking on the destiny of hundreds of thousands of subjects? People who will call upon you in their time of need? Who will need a guide they can count on?”

Benfred faltered, answering on first instinct, “I… I don’t know…” Duncan smiled, answering in turn, “a good answer.” His brother withdrew his hands and stroked his head, tousling his neatly combed hair. “Nah! Stop! It took me half an hour to fix it!”

The dog’s muzzle approached his struggling master, licking his hand. Benfred dodged the saliva-soaked rebuke.

“No! Good, Bark. Sit!… Sit!” The dog looked at him in confusion, then threw himself down on his stomach, waiting for cuddles. “No, Bark! I said sit! No scratching! And no chicken tonight!”

This time the dog reacted by standing back up and wagging his tail animatedly with his mouth open, waiting for the succulent reward.

“No, Bark! I didn’t mean you’ll get the chicken…! Phew… Forget it and follow me.” “Woff! Woff!” replied the dog, starting to run around the group.

“I note with pleasure that the training is going well… Do you wish Bark to stay in my care while you stay at Casterly Rock? I am good with animals. When you return, you will have a real trained guard by your side…” Asked his monster brother as they resumed their journey.

“No! Bark stays with me! Don’t you dare go near my dog!” Duncan laughed for a while and then said.

“… It is said that Lord Tywin has already admonished you severely. Therefore, leaving Bark at the kennel during your duties would be best.” Benfred cast a defiant glare at his brother, then looked around for the spy…

“Who told you…?! Weblin, was it you who informed him? You promised me not to mention it to anyone!” The Frost Blade lowered his gaze slightly with a guilty look and a hint of regret. Almost all of the other members of the Tallhart escort cast their Lord’s son’s security guard silent glances that expressed a clear: [You suck… Betraying the trust of a child.]

“Captain Weblin must respect the hierarchies of command, Benfred. You do not yet have the authority to command the men of House Tallhart by baton. That is a privilege that must be earned.” So rebutted the General of the Third Legion, coming to the aid of the subordinate charged on all fronts.

A single reproachful glance from Duncan was enough to bring the seven escort members back into line.

“It was just a little accident! Now, Bark knows very well that he can’t do his business indoors! I won’t give in to your blackmail anymore. I won’t be tricked by uncle Leobald, nor will I be intimidated by that haughty old stern man!!!” Sprayed the child in a combative tone.

“… No blackmails or tricks. Mine is a simple proposal of ‘Exchange of Favours’… Eddara is beginning to learn the sublime art of flexibility and negotiation, gaining huge concessions. While you persist in rejecting every proposal from me and our uncle without even listening to what we could offer you in return.” Benfred gnashed his teeth.

His sister had managed to wrest a lot of privileges from her brother… A myriad of bespoke Dornish dress sets, collections of unobtainable books, perfumes and beauty creams of all kinds, the finest hunting falcons in the Vale, and even a personal damned bard-enchanter from the East, hired for her entire stay in Dorne… All earned with a handful of walks with Lancel Lannister and a few randomly phrased sweet words.

“… What do you want? And what would I get in return?” Benfred asked reluctantly after several moments of hesitation.

“Well… I’ve had the opportunity to deal with Lord Tywin in person, and yes, the man is quite a tough cookie and rather inflexible in nature. I doubt you will be able to persuade him to let you keep Bark… “But, if you were to show a little gallantry towards young Lady Ysilla Royce tonight by inviting her to a simple ‘First’ dance, perhaps some words might come to your rescue…” That despicable sly blackmailer wanted to force him to dance with Ysilla ‘Bronze Pimple’!

‘So that was his plan! …He wanted to use poor Bark as a means of pressure to sell me out to House Royce!’ So reasoned the child inwardly, gnashing his teeth and feeling an extreme urge to kick and punch his ‘beloved’ elder brother.

He had already had the unpleasant experience of meeting Lord Yohn Royce’s daughter at the first welcome banquet. She was the most gossipy, pimply, clingy and talkative eleven-year-old in the Valley!

His lady mother, Myra, had been pestering him for days with advice and stories about the dormant beauty of the unblossoming flowers of the East and the importance of communication between a lord and his lady. Even his traitorous sister took their mother’s side!

Duncan had bought both ladies of Torrhen’s Square big time!!!

Benfred gathered up all his indignation, inhaled a hearty breath of air, and then roared:

“No! I will convince the Old Lion myself!”

End POV.

——-

POV: The Great Lion

Lannister Mansion Solarium.

About an hour after a decisive refusal… (Four hours to go until the start of the tournament)

——

The obstinate little boy had arrived, and with him, trembling with his tail between his legs, was still that useless dog with the malformed paw.

At least, that morning, the impertinent cupbearer/page had had the decency to arrive an hour earlier than he should have…

“Good morning, my Lord… Boots, breeches, tunic, belt and farsetto have just been washed, polished, dried and folded. The Master Barber, Brice, asked me if you would like his services this morning. Also, the breakfast you requested is ready to be served.” Said the page novice, pouring out the usual bowl of lukewarm lemon-flavoured water that his Lord enjoyed every morning as soon as he rose to rinse his palate.

Tywin scrutinised each gesture carefully from a seated position while still wearing his velvet night robe. The brat pretended there wasn’t a deformed little elephant in the room polluting the environment.

“… And I should eat my breakfast along with the stench of piss and dog hair, do you think? I already warned you not to show that beast in my presence again. Have you a short memory, boy? Or was it a deliberate gesture of defiance towards your Lord…? You have a choice. Dementia or insubordination?” Tywin asked in a cold tone and piercing eyes.

“I…” Tywin gave him no respite, roaring, “when your lord asks you a question, you will always answer by looking him in the eye, page!” The boy raised his head sharply in reply:

“Yes, my Lord! I beg your pardon, Lord Tywin.” The Lion’s calculating green eyes with gold streaks made contact with the small sandy-coloured eyes typical of House Cerwyn.

Tywin tested the resilience of the rebellious brat’s gaze. Finally, after a few seconds, the boy made a visual effort not to blink while maintaining his acerbic obsequious bearing.

“… Continue.” The boy breathed the necessary air with relief before resuming his speech.

“I have not forgotten your warning, nor was it my intention to defy your orders, my Lord… On the contrary, I was waiting for the opportune moment to request your favour for a concession.”

“And what concession would you have the audacity to ask of me after not even four days of sloppy service to my household, page…? Let us hear it.” The boy involuntarily lowered his gaze to the trembling dog crouched behind his feet, only to raise it again a blink later, replying:

“I wanted to request permission from you, my Lord, to keep Bark by my side during my services. And, when the time is near, permission to take him to Casterly Rock…” Tywin scrutinised him intently. The man had known from day one that the immature boy was very attached, for some strange reason, to that useless pet dog. A crippled half-breed not even fit to hunt…

The dog constantly trembled at Tywin’s presence… Ever since Duncan Tallhart’s departure from Casterly Rock, dogs, cats, crows and horses often stirred at his passing. Even his White Stallion, an elite beast trained and accustomed to his presence for years, seemed no longer to recognise him. The master groom of Casterly Rock was even forced to re-train the warhorse.

Probably, the unintentional loss of water from that ‘Bark’, which had occurred two days earlier during an important meeting with his bannered lords, was not the fault of his master’s lack of training. But that still did not justify his page disobeying his will…

“For his sixth name-day, I gave my son Jaime, a splendid specimen of a thoroughbred gold-sand pony. I made that clever horse merchant rich. I could have had twenty thoroughbred stallions imported from the Dothraki Sea for the same price paid for that single beast… Jaime loved it with all his heart. He felt like the luckiest child in the Seven Kingdoms.

My son took care of the beast day and night, feeding him, grooming his coat every morning, snatching apples from the pantry to spoil him, singing songs to him to put him to sleep and even diligently cleaning the stable without complaint.

Six months later, the pony fractured his leg during an accident on his second hunting trip… A beast with a sealed fate and no chance of being more useful. Jaime pleaded with me for days in tears not to have the animal put down, trying to convince me that one day ‘Desert Hare’ would recover and that he would be able to ride again… Can you tell me what hard but necessary teaching he imparted to my son then?” The child swallowed the first formal face was replaced by a mask of terror.

“Go on… Give it a try and guess.” Insisted Tywin Lannister.

“I… I guess you ignored his pleas and had Desert Hare put down anyway, my Lord.” So replied the boy with a hint of newfound determination.

“Wrong… I went along with my son’s wishes.

I forced Jaime to watch the needless agony of that poor pony day after day…

It took nineteen long days before Jaime found the courage and the stomach to do ‘in person’ what had to be done.” Then, the Great Lion tore away the boy’s first veil of false bravado.

Now, the little master was afraid… Afraid of what Lord Tywin might command.

However, after a few seconds of caressing and glancing at his own animal, Benfred Tallhart enacted:

“Bark is my responsibility. A lesson my brother wanted me to learn… A burden that only “I” and no one else has the duty to carry.” The boy forgot the appellation ‘My Lord’, but for this time, Tywin let it pass. The Great Lion’s curiosity had just been piqued.

“And what lesson would the witty and wise ‘Bloody Snow’ like to convey to you by entrusting that worthless being…? I am all ears.” The boy dodged yet another provocation from the Lion. Then, regaining composure and looking him straight in the eye, the page calmly replied:

“Ever since I can remember, I have been enchanted and envious of my brother’s heroic deeds. I dreamed, and still dream that one day I might become worthy to stand by his side, to share in the same excitement as the most acclaimed Hero in all the North… To be part of history, to imagine that one day bards would also sing of me and my deeds and that somewhere in the world, there would be another child lover of stories and tales to hear them.

…Eight moons ago, after the foiled Ironborn invasion at Bear Island, my brother returned victorious and triumphant to Torrhen’s Square. On the evening of the celebration, I asked Duncan what it felt like to take the life of a defeated enemy…

The answer came hours later when the manor was asleep in the middle of the night.

My brother woke me and dragged me forcefully from my room to the kennels. I remember every moment and every word that was spoken… Duncan grabbed a puppy aside in a corner, held a dagger in my hand and said:

[“This is the reject of the litter. The beast has a malformed paw, his mother and brothers do not recognise him, and he will be of no use to Torrhen’s Square. His fate is already sealed. Master Kennel will put him down tomorrow at first light… But I want you to do it.”] I asked him why I would do such a despicable thing, and he replied:

[“You asked me what it felt like to take the life of a defeated enemy. It’s not something I can explain in words… you have to experience it for yourself.”] Duncan continued to encourage me to kill the cub. I tearfully pleaded with him not to make me do it and to spare the creature… and so, my brother said:

[“Many have died at my hands, Benfred… When I take life from another human being, however unexpected or conscious, however swift or slow it was, a moment before the end comes, the feeling I feel is what you are feeling now… It hurts. It is a dull but ever-present pain. The faces of the fallen, suffering and defeated, haunt me in my dreams almost every night.

That feeling of pain…that constant torment diminishes after each life taken. The day that it stops hurting will be the day that “the Hero of the North” becomes a monster to be put down.”]

Duncan gave me a choice: to “do what had to be done” or “take responsibility”,… And that I should learn an important lesson from it. Bark has always been my responsibility since that night, my Lord.”

Tywin carefully scrutinised the acerbic, overly sensitive boy in silence, with no hair on his stomach but still some glimmer of potential, and asked:

“Why do you think your brother made you take on that dead weight over there?”

“That’s it… I’m still not sure. I believe Duncan wanted me to understand the burden of taking or sparing a life… A choice that, sooner or later, every self-respecting Lord must make.” The Great Lion nodded slightly, explaining in turn:

“Any lord might show mercy to a traitor or criminal, sparing his life under the sound of his tears and promises. A man on the verge of death is prepared to do or say whatever is necessary to survive, but when the threat of the blade or the slipknot is far away and out of sight, who will guarantee that that same man will not commit further rebellious acts or crimes against your House or the people you have sworn to safeguard?

To spare the life of a guilty man might cause the death of innocents… And at that point, you will be part of the guilt of those crimes yourself.” The boy nodded, showing a hint of respect, and his eyes shot with anticipation for the verdict.

“… You may keep that beast for nineteen more days. ‘But’, after that time, if your animal does not prove perfectly trained or masterfully obedient to its master’s wishes, you will be forced to do what must be done… ‘In person’ and in ‘My Presence’.” The boy trembled at the onerous ultimatum he had just issued. But the Great Lion was not yet finished:

“Until further notice, you will continue your usual assignments in the morning, and in the afternoon, until the sun goes down, you will join the field classes with the other squires… You will have to hone your ‘Trainer-of-Useful-Dogs’ skills in the spare time left to you, Page…

Now, you may have my breakfast served, have a hot bath prepared, bring my clothes, and inform Master Brice that I desire his services in precisely two hours.” The scion of Torrhen’s Square gnashed his teeth slightly and clenched his fists, but restraining the impulse of hostility, the page unwillingly spat out a: “It shall be done.”

The boy turned with a jaunty bow towards the door of the solarium.

“Page…!” the infuriated ten-year-old boy turned at yet another call.

“It shall be done, ‘My Lord’… From now on, whenever you forget to appeal to your Lord properly, you must pay the token of a thrashing. To receive or to give… Your choice.” Tywin directed his gaze towards the dog.

“… Yes, ‘My-Lord’. With your permission, ‘My-Lord’.” The boy replied, carefully articulating each word. Tywin granted the nod of dismissal.

“Let’s go, Bark.” The little beast obeyed the command and followed his master, the boy brimming with pent-up fury.

The Great Lion stood watching calmly and stone-faced as his furious and humiliated protégé exited the solarium.

Left alone, Tywin prepared to take a rich sip of lukewarm water with fresh wedges of lemon. Still, before doing so, the Great Lion scrutinised the transparent contents of his golden cup, observing in detail a thin wedge of lemon shaped oddly like a shield.

The lion’s lips arched slightly in a nostalgic arch, filled with distant memories of his childhood… When he, too, had been a page under the sour and pretentious tongue of King Aegon V and the annoying iron hand of his Sworn Shield…

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End Chapter.

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