The Sworn Sword

"Dam's built strong, m'lord", Ser Be

Ser Eustace stared at the Little Lion's shield.

Dunk cleared his throat. "M'lord, as to that, when we came upon the diggers, well.. ".

"Dunk, don't trouble m'lord with trifles", said Be

Ser Eustace looked up sharply. "What sort of lesson?"

"With my sword, as it were. A little claret on his cheek, that's all it were, m'lord".

The old knight looked long at him. "That… that was ill considered, ser. The woman has a spider's heart. She murdered three of her husbands. And all her brothers died in swaddling clothes. Five, there were. Or six, mayhaps, I don't recall. They stood between her and the castle. She would whip the skin off any peasant who displeased her, I do not doubt, but for you to cut one… no, she will not suffer such an insult. Make no mistake. She will come for you, as she came for Lem".

"Dake, m'lord", Ser Be

"If it please m'lord, I could go to Goldengrove and tell Lord Rowan of this dam", said Dunk. Rowan was the old knight's liege lord. The Red Widow held her lands of him as well.

"Rowan? No, look for no help there. Lord Rowan's sister wed Lord Wyman's cousin Wendell, so he is kin to the Red Widow. Besides, he loves me not. Ser Duncan, on the morrow you must make the rounds of all my villages, and roust out every able-bodied man of fighting age. I am old, but I am not dead. The woman will soon find that the chequy lion still has claws!"

Two, Dunk thought glumly, and I am one of them.

Ser Eustace's lands supported three small villages, none more than a handful of hovels, sheepfolds, and pigs. The largest boasted a thatched one-room sept with crude pictures of the Seven scratched upon the walls in charcoal. Mudge, a stoop-backed old swineherd who'd once been to Oldtown, led devotions there every seventh day. Twice a year a real septon came through to forgive sins in the Mother's name. The smallfolk were glad of the forgiveness, but hated the septon's visits all the same, since they were required to feed him.

They seemed no more pleased by the sight of Dunk and Egg. Dunk was known in the villages, if only as Ser Eustace's new knight, but not so much as a cup of water was offered him. Most of the men were in the fields, so it was largely women and children who crept out of the hovels at their coming, along with a few grandfathers too infirm for work. Egg bore the Osgrey ba

"Is it war?" asked one thin woman, with two children hiding behind her skirts and a babe sucking at her breast. "Is the black dragon come again?"

"There are no dragons in this, black or red", Dunk told her. "This is between the chequy lion and the spiders. The Red Widow has taken your water".

The woman nodded, though she looked askance when Egg took off his hat to fan his face. "That boy got no hair. He sick?"

"It's shaved ", said Egg. He put the hat back on, turned Maester's head, and rode off slowly.

The boy is in a prickly mood today. He had hardly said a word since they set out. Dunk gave Thunder a touch of the spur and soon caught the mule. "Are you angry that I did not take your part against Ser Be

"I'm your squire, not his", the boy said. "He's dirty and mean-mouthed, and he pinches me".

If he had an inkling who you were, he'd piss himself before he laid a finger on you. "He used to pinch me, too". Dunk had forgotten that, till Egg's words brought it back. Ser Be

"Someone has to", Egg agreed. "Be

"Some knights never name their horses", Dunk told him. "That way, when they die in battle, the grief is not so hard to bear. There are always more horses to be had, but it's hard to lose a faithful friend". Or so the old man said, but he never took his own counsel. He named every horse he ever owned. So had Dunk. "We'll see how many men turn up at the tower… but whether it's five or fifty, you'll need to do for them as well".

Egg looked indignant. "I have to serve smallfolk ?"

"Not serve. Help. We need to turn them into fighters". If the Widow gives us time enough. "If the gods are good, a few will have done some soldiering before, but most will be green as summer grass, more used to holding hoes than spears. Even so, a day may come when our lives depend on them. How old were you when you first took up a sword?"

"I was little, ser. The sword was made from wood".

"Common boys fight with wooden swords, too, only theirs are sticks and broken branches. Egg, these men may seem fools to you. They won't know the proper names for bits of armor, or the arms of the great Houses, or which king it was who abolished the lord's right to the first night… but treat them with respect all the same. You are a squire born of noble blood, but you are still a boy. Most of them will be men grown. A man has his pride, no matter how lowborn he may be. You would seem just as lost and stupid in their villages. And if you doubt that, go hoe a row and shear a sheep, and tell me the names of all the weeds and wildflowers in Wat's Wood".

The boy considered for a moment. "I could teach them the arms of the great Houses, and how Queen Alysa

"They could", Dunk agreed, "but before you get to King Jaehaerys, you'd best help us teach them how to use a spear. And don't go eating anything that Maester won't".

The next day a dozen would-be warriors found their way to Standfast to assemble among the chickens. One was too old, two were too young, and one ski

As far as arms went, they brought a scythe, three hoes, an old knife, some stout wooden clubs. Lem had a sharpened stick that might serve for a spear, and one of the Wills allowed that he was good at chucking rocks. "Well and good", Be