TYRION
"I want to see the little man fly!" That's what the little brat had said. Not this little man, not today thought Tyrion Lannister.
The septon was blessing the trial by champion, saying all of the holy words and calling upon the father above to justly judge the outcome. Tyrion wished he would get on with it. All the holy words in Westeros would not change the outcome of the fight.
Robert Arryn, the little brat, was impatient as well. Tyrion thought his motives were somewhat less pure than his.
"Hurry up! I want to the little man fly!" said Sweetrobin.
Tyrion ground his teeth. At least Little Lord Arryn's complaining made the septon hurry. Ser Vardis entered, covered from head to toe in armor. His squire strapped a heavy kite shield to his arm.
Bronn entered from the other side, looking naked next to the heavily armored Ser Vardis. He had only a ring mail over boiled leather and half a helm. All you could see of Ser Vardis was his eyes.
Even so Tyrion thought that Bronn had a better chance than Ser Vardis. Or he would of, anyway, if he hadn't taken a wound from one of the Mountain Clans. Tyrion was still betting on Bronn being his savior. What choice did he have?
The brat sitting on the high chair started the battle and cheered as Ser Vardis swung at Bronn. After a few blows, Bronn started moving away from Ser Vardis. The crowd started calling Bronn a craven but Tyrion could only grin.
Tire him out and then cut his throat! Tryion thought. Perhaps he was being bloodthirsty but the outcome would decide his fate.
Tyrion looked over to his accusers. Robert Arryn was completely absorbed in the fight, his mouth hanging open as he watched the two fight. Lady Lysa was looking at her son and petting his hair. When she saw Tyrion looking at them, she shot him a foul look. Lady Stark had a faraway look in her eye, like she was remembering something far away and long ago.
Ser Vardis stumbled and Bronn tried to land a blow on his arm. Ser Vardis stepped out of the way just in time. In spite of his light amor, Bronn was slowing more quickly than Ser Vardis. His breath came rapid and his left leg, where he had been slashed by the tribesman, was dragging on the ground.
"Ser Vardis! Finish him!" called Lady Lysa, her voice high.
Ser Vardis circled in and tried to land a killing blow. Bronn deftly evaded all of them. Bronn toppled a statue but Ser Vardis stepped out of the way in time. Then Ser Vardis struck hard on Bronn's sword. It fell out of his hands.
"Yield" the sellsword said. To Tyrion, the word seemed to echo in silence.
The crowd grew hushed. Ser Vardis lowered his sword, took off his helm and nodded.
"I want to see the little man fly!" Robert Arryn stood up and cheered.
Tyrion fell to his knees but was already being picked up by two Arryn guards.
"I did not try to murder your son! I did not murder Jon Arryn! I am innocent! You must believe me!" Tyrion shouted, as if in a dream.
"The gods have spoken," Lysa Tully seemed to call from very far away.
By then, they were opening the moon door. A rush of wind swept in as they did. For a moment, Tyrion locked eyes on the sellsword on whom he'd bet his life and lost. Bronn just shrugged at him.
The two Arryn guards hurled him out of the moon door with ridiculous ease. The air outside was shockingly cold.
As a child, Tyrion had once dreamed of flying on the back of a dragon. Now, at least, he was flying.