The Sworn Sword

"We could go to Fair Isle, ser", the boy said as they were gathering up their things. "If they're being raided by the ironmen, Lord Farman might be looking for some swords".

It was a good thought. "Have you ever been to Fair Isle?"

"No, ser", Egg said, "but they say it's fair. Lord Farman's seat is fair, too. It's called Faircastle".

Dunk laughed. "Faircastle it shall be". He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I'll see to the horses", he said, when he'd tied his armor up in a bundle, secured with hempen rope. "Go to the roof and get our bedrolls, squire". The last thing he wanted this morning was another confrontation with the chequy lion. "If you see Ser Eustace, let him be".

"I will, ser".

Outside, Be

Be

Ser Be

"Until they build some steps of their own. They might bring ropes and grapnels, too, and swarm down on you through the roof. Unless they just stand back with their crossbows and fill you full of quarrels while you're trying to hold the door".

The Melons, Beans, and Barleycorns were listening to all they said. All their brave talk had blown away, though there was no breath of wind. They stood clutching their sharpened sticks, looking at Dunk and Be

"This lot won't do you a lick of good", Dunk said, with a nod at the ragged Osgrey army. "The Red Widow's knights will cut them to pieces if you leave them in the open, and their spears won't be any use inside that tower".

"They can chuck things off the roof", said Be

"He could chuck a rock or two, I suppose", said Dunk, "until one of the Widow's crossbowmen puts a bolt through him".

"Ser?" Egg stood beside him. "Ser, if we mean to go, we'd best be gone, in case the Widow comes".

The boy was right. If we linger, we'll be trapped here. Yet still Dunk hesitated. "Let them go, Be

"What, lose our valiant lads?" Be

"Try, and I'll gut you". Dunk drew his sword. "Go home, all of you", he told the smallfolk. "Go back to your villages, and see if the fire's spared your homes and crops".

No one moved. The brown knight stared at him, his mouth working. Dunk ignored him. "Go", he told the smallfolk once again. It was as if some god had put the word into his mouth. Not the Warrior. Is there a god for fools? "GO!" he said again, roaring it this time. "Take your spears and shields, but go, or you won't live to see the morrow. Do you want to kiss your wives again? Do you want to hold your children? Go home! Have you all gone deaf?"

They hadn't. A mad scramble ensued amongst the chickens. Big Rob trod on a hen as he made his dash, and Pate came within half a foot of disemboweling Will Bean when his own spear tripped him up, but off they went, ru

By the time the old knight emerged from his tower and came scrambling down the steps, only Dunk and Egg and Be

"No use, m'lord", said Be

Ser Eustace rounded on Dunk, his mustache quivering with rage. "You had no right to send them away. No right! I told them not to go, I forbade it. I forbade you to dismiss them".

"We never heard you, my lord". Egg took off his hat to fan away the smoke. "The chickens were cackling too loud".

The old man sank down onto Standfast's lowest step. "What did that woman offer you to deliver me to her?" he asked Dunk in a bleak voice. "How much gold did she give you to betray me, to send my lads away and leave me here alone?"

"You're not alone, m'lord". Dunk sheathed his sword. "I slept beneath your roof, and ate your eggs this morning. I owe you some service still. I won't go slinking off with my tail between my legs. My sword's still here". He touched the hilt.

"One sword". The old knight got slowly to his feet. "What can one sword hope to do against that woman?"

"Try and keep her off your land, to start with". Dunk wished he were as certain as he sounded.

The old knight's mustache trembled every time he took a breath. "Yes", he said at last. "Better to go boldly than hide behind stone walls. Better to die a lion than a rabbit. We were the Marshalls of the Northmarch for a thousand years. I must have my armor". He started up the steps.

Egg was looking up at Dunk. "I never knew you had a tail, ser", the boy said.

"Do you want a clout in the ear?"

"No, ser. Do you want your armor?"

"That", Dunk said, "and one thing more".

There was talk of Ser Be

The brown knight did not require much convincing. Dunk helped him knock loose the iron pegs that held the upper steps in place. Be

"… I'll ride for Highgarden, m'lord, and tell Lord Tyrell how that woman burned your wood and murdered you".

Dunk followed Egg and Maester down the hill. The old man came after, his armor rattling softly. For once a wind was rising, and he could hear the flapping of his cloak.

Where Wat's Wood had stood they found a smoking wasteland. The fire had largely burned itself out by the time they reached the wood, but here and there a few patches were still burning, fiery islands in a sea of ash and cinders. Elsewhere the trunks of burned trees thrust like blackened spears into the sky. Other trees had fallen and lay athwart the west way with limbs charred and broken, dull red fires smoldering inside their hollow hearts. There were hot spots on the forest floor as well, and places where the smoke hung in the air like a hot gray haze. Ser Eustace was stricken with a fit of coughing, and for a few moments Dunk feared the old man would need to turn back, but finally it passed.