Thereafter accounts differ markedly. […] Several tell us that [Lucifer] Massey hacked off the arm of Harys Horpe. In one account, Death's Head Harry tossed his battle-axe into his other hand and buried it between Lord Massey's eyes. Other chroniclers suggest Ser Harys simply died. (The Sons of the Dragon)
Chapter IX
Faithful reader, as I am writing this account, I am aboard a ship sailing to a secret destination, on my way to perform a clandestine (and most important) mission for King Stannis. Forgive me the cryptic tone of this introduction, gentle reader, for the true nature of the mission entrusted to me by King Stannis must remain hidden for now. The eyes and ears of King Stannis' enemies may be with us, and discretion has to be my watchword until the completion and success of that mission. (Fear not, dear reader, I do not intend to return a failure, and I shall not return a failure, of this I promise you.)
Late at night, as I sit in my cabin, alone and palely loitering, my thoughts inevitably turn to the Lady Asha. Reader, I miss her. I miss her terribly. I confess this to you without shame or embarrassment, for a true knight – a gallant knight – is never ashamed of displaying tender feelings and sentiments. Only those deeply insecure in their own manhood (such as a knight whose name shall not pass my lips, though it rhymes with corpse) are afraid of confessing love, longing and yearning.
The aforementioned knight – well, since you insist, dear reader, Richard Horpe is his name – is possibly at this very moment trying his best to woo the Lady Asha, taking advantage of my absence. Not for love. Not for affection. Solely for the Iron Islands, of course.
Wooing a woman has never been Horpe's strongest suit, so his method mainly consists of belittling me, his greatest rival, in the eyes of Lady Asha. There was the time he questioned my courage in front of Lady Asha, all but calling me a cowardly craven. There was also the time he interrupted, uninvited, during a conversation in which I was recounting to Lady Asha the exploits of various ancestors of mine, to reassure her, gentle reader, that should she choose to wed me, she would not be marrying into a feckless family, but an old and honorable one.
"There was Triston Massey, Aegon the Conqueror's first master of laws," I began.
"Wasn't he a turncloak?" questioned the Lady Asha.
"A turncloak, my lady?"
"House Massey was sworn to House Durrandon and Storm's End, but Triston Massey fought on the side of the dragon. I have heard Lord Stannis … forgive me ... King Stannis speaking of this matter. He is not fond of turncloaks, as you well know, Ser Justin."
"King Stannis' own ancestor Orys Baratheon also fought on the side of Aegon the Conqueror. It was Lord Orys himself who slew the last Durrandon king," I pointed out, dear reader, with some asperity.
"I'm certain King Stannis would remark that Orys Baratheon was not a turncloak. He was always sworn to the dragon. He did not change side, unlike your ancestor Triston Massey."
It was time to depart from the contentious subject of Triston Massey, I wisely judged. "There was also Maldon Massey, who built our castle Stonedance. He once ruled the entirety of Massey's Hook."
"I'm sure each house has an ancestor who built its castle. Someone has to built it, or it will not exist at all," Lady Asha replied, looking very amused, to my distress and heartbreak.
"Have you heard of Justin Massey the pirate king?" I tried again.
Lady Asha laughed. "Is this a future reference to yourself, Ser? Are you looking to change your vocation from a knight to a pirate?"
I hastened to reassure her that this was not the case. "The pirate king was another Justin Massey, one who defied the Storm King and liberated the Massey's land from the rule of Storm's End. Justin Milk-Eye, he was known as."
To my great relief, faithful reader, Lady Asha seemed more interested in this ancestor of mine. "Why was he known as Justin Milk-Eye?" she queried.
Before I had the chance to reply, Richard Horpe interrupted us. Rudely. "Has he mentioned that ancestor of his who fought on the side of Maegor the Cruel, the worst king this realm has ever known? The Massey killed by my own ancestor Ser Harys Horpe."
"Lucifer Massey was not killed by Death's Head Harry," I objected, strenuously. "That is slander! Absolute slander. He -"
Lady Asha turned to Horpe with interest. "You have an ancestor who was known as Death's Head Harry? Tell me more about this figure, Ser Richard."
Before Horpe could reply, I quickly explained to Lady Asha that there was nothing interesting or fascinating about the Death's Head moniker. It was merely the result of the Horpe's sigil – three death's-head moths on a field of ash and bone. "It has nothing to do with anything this Harys Horpe ever achieved in his life. We could call Richard here Death's Head Richie, and it would mean just as little."
"He managed to achieve burying his axe between Lucifer Massey's eyes," Horpe replied sharply, furious at being called Richie.
"An axe? Now that is a weapon I respect," Lady Asha said with a smile. Indeed, dear reader, I myself have heard Lady Asha saying on multiple occasions that she wishes to die with an axe in her hand.
Imagine, dear reader, if you could, my severe distress at this unfortunate turn of event. I had intended to regale Lady Asha with tales of my illustrious ancestors, but it was the tale of Richard Horpe's ancestor that she found more interesting. Even the name Lucifer Massey – a most wonderful-sounding name, I have often thought – elicited no response at all from her.
I was not yet ready to surrender, however. I brought up the fact that Harys Horpe had his arm hacked off by my ancestor Lucifer Massey, and thus it was very unlikely that he could have buried his axe between anyone's eyes. Horpe retorted that Harys' other hand was still available, and we argued about the possibility of survival after suffering an amputation well above the elbow. The shock and the blood loss alone would have left him too weakened to pick up an axe, let alone bury it in the eyes of the man who was strong enough to hack off his arm in the first place. The argument went on for a long time, culminating with Richard Horpe challenging me to a Horpe-Massey rematch, to defend the honor of our respective ancestors.
At this point we finally realized that Lady Asha had left our company and returned to her tent.
