Crouching Viper Hidden Dragon
Chapter 36
The Golden Rose Hotel…..
Robb took another pull of the glass in front of him. The wine had a spicy quality to it and he didn't know whether he liked it or not, but, judging by the half empty bottle beside him, it was safe to say that he did. Suddenly, Robb heard a great cheer coming from the entrance of the gambling hall. By the sound of the boisterous Northmen in the crowd, it had to be her. Robb took another drink to temper the sudden spike of jealousy that swelled within him. He waited with baited breath as the most popular person in the North, hell, most popular person in the seven kingdoms, made her way towards him.
Robb shook his head and plastered on a smile he never thought he'd have to feign in the presence of his sister. He knew that this feeling of inadequacy would pass but, for the life of him he couldn't imagine it passing anytime soon. Robb shook his head once more. He loved his sister, he knew he shouldn't feel this way but, he couldn't help it. For the first time in his life, he envied her. She wasn't just Arya Stark, lady of Winterfell any more, she was Arya Stark… legend. Already the bards had started singing about "the lady fair and her poison snare" or better yet, "The wolf in heat and the prince she beat."
Robb had laughed hard when he remembered the latter version. His father and sister did not. In fact, Eddard Stark had put a bounty on the bard who had penned that little tune saying that he would have his head. King Robert laughed at his hand and told those gathered not to worry, he'd pardon the poor boy who came up with the song if he was ever found. Unfortunately, much to the amusement of King Robert himself, his hand added, "Pardoned to the Night's Watch," at the end of Robert's pronouncement. Whether he was serious or not was still up for debate but, nobody decided to press the matter. Many noted how many bards conveniently forgot the lyrics to that particular song whenever the Hand was around. Robb took a final sip of his wine when his sister and Tyr finally got through the throng of well-wishers.
Tyr and Arya sat down in front of him. Tyr immediately poured himself a glass from Robb's bottle savoring the taste. While Arya took some water for herself. Robb looked at his little sister and suddenly realized how tired she was. It seemed that Khal Jon's Dornish sister didn't mess around when it came to punishments.
"You have good taste young wolf." Tyr said after downing his glass.
"Thank you. But you'd be the last person I thought that would appreciate a good Dornish Red." Robb said.
Tyr laughed.
"My brothers and sisters in the Khalasar enjoy stronger fare but, my palate is more refined." Tyr said with a smile.
"Lady Olena has taken a liking to Tyr. She always requests him whenever there are big herds of cows or sheep that need to be transported from Highgarden. I think he's developed a taste for the finer things in life." Arya added with a hint of sarcasm.
Tyr laughed again.
"I can't help it if the queen of thorns likes me. I have a way with women." Tyr said while laughing boisterously again.
Arya rolled her eyes and Robb joined in on the mirth.
"So, Robb, why did you want to see me? I'm missing a lot of sleep coming here and trust me, after Obarra's punishments, I need it." Arya said.
Robb took a breath and looked at his sister before speaking.
"I want to join the Race."
Arya started laughing.
"What, you can't be serious." Arya said while still laughing.
Tyr looked at the young wolf and gave him an understanding nod. He appreciated one's need to prove himself and he was sure Robb did too.
"I don't think he's kidding little wolf." Tyr said.
Arya stopped laughing and looked at her brother wide eyed.
"Are you kidding. People have died in the race and for what? A chance to compete in the winner's bracket! A bracket so brutal that it kills or maims every race. You're heir to the North for gods sake! Act like it." Arya said her voice rising with every word.
"Sssshh. Quiet down!" Robb said silencing his sister.
Arya looked around and noticed she was starting to draw everyone's attention. She quieted down and started drinking her water.
Tyr looked at Robb and smiled.
"Looks like this is a domestic dispute. I'll leave you in the care of your sister, young wolf. If you need my help, which I'm sure you will, I'll be at the card table spending all the winnings this one here got me." Tyr said while ruffling Arya's hair before he exited.
Arya smoothed her hair after Tyr left and took gulp of Tyr's glass.
Robb looked at his sister drinking Dornish red and was scandalized.
"Arya, you're too young to be drinking that!"
"Why not? If I'm reading you correctly. I'm going to need this glass if I'm going to go through the trouble you're getting me in."
Robb smirked at his little sister.
"Don't worry, it won't be too much trouble. All I need is some armor and a good horse." Robb said as innocently as possible.
"Oh please, I know trouble when I see it. Khal Jon, the Dothraki, and the Martell's are training me brother. They are trouble personified." Arya said before pushing Tyr's glass away.
"I don't know why you guys like that stuff? It tastes like spoiled grape juice."
Robb laughed at his sister. Underneath all that bravado, she was still a little girl.
"You'll understand why when your older." Robb said.
Arya frowned.
"I hate that explanation. It's the explanation you give to stupid children."
Robb raised his left eyebrow and gave Arya a smug look.
Arya looked back and threw a loaf bread that was on the table.
"Shut up!" Arya said causing Robb to laugh once again.
Arya then got serious.
"Robb I'm serious. People die in the Race. Why in the hell would you want to enter such a thing?"
Robb sighed.
"Because of you."
Arya moved back in surprise.
"What are you talking about?"
"Look around you Arya. The Northmen, the Dornish, Hell's, everyone respects you. They don't respect you because you're daughter of the hand, they don't respect you because you are a lady of Winterfell; No, they respect you because you earned it. You are Arya Stark, the squires champion, the warrior maiden, the she wolf."
Robb looked around.
"For once in my life, I want to earn something that can't be inherited…. respect."
Arya shook her head.
"Fine, if you're going to be stupid about it, I'll get you in. But, know this brother, you'll owe me big time. Regardless of whether or not you win."
Robb smiled at his sister. He didn't know if he'd win or not, but he'd get recognized all the same.
The next day…..
The lords and ladies packed the stands of the grand circus (think circus maximus). It was still a work in progress. The only thing that was finished was the actual track but, when it was completed, it would be the biggest stadium in Westeros. The makeshift stands and the walls of wood were only temporary until the stone was mined but, already, the stadium spoke of the wealth that was coming into Dorne. No other Kingdom boasted of permanent stadiums like the ones that Khal Jon was building.
The Starks occupied the stands below the King. They were seated by the finish line ready to look on at the grand spectacle that was "the race".
Ned looked at Sansa and wondered where her brother was.
"Where is your brother?" Ned asked Sansa.
"I don't know? Arya do you know where he is?" Sansa asked.
Arya shrugged like she didn't know but Ned knew better. He known his children all their lives and knew when they were covering for each other. It seemed Sansa picked up her lie as well.
He was about to needle Arya into telling him where her brother was when the participants to the first heat of the race were announced.
"…..And from the North, Great Jon Umber…" Northerners cheered. "Also from the North, the heir of Winterfell, the young wolf, …..Robb Stark." The crowed cheered. Robb was the only notable noble that was brave enough to enter the competition. Loras Tyrell, Garlan Tyrell, Edmure Tully, and even Renly Baratheon had refused to enter. They deemed it to risky to enter.
Ned should have known what Robb was up to. He wondered why he hadn't seen Robb in the practice yards and now he knew why. On the surface, the great race wasn't something to be feared. It was just three laps around the track. Three leagues of horse racing but, Arya and Khal Jon had informed him that a just a horse race was an understatement. Knights had their jousts but, the Dothraki, had the race.
The race consisted of twenty participants in each heat. The first lap was just standard fare. Participants were allowed to hit each other but, there were no weapons. Physical strength usually won on the first lap. Between laps, the horses would get winded, so the other unique quirk of the race was that riders had to change horses between laps. This meant that each rider would need atleast, three horses to participate. The Dothraki usually grouped up and rotated between who was riding or not each week. Only the most successful riders had 3 horses in their stable.
The second phase or second lap of the race was when it got dangerous. Burning carts, wooden spike barricades, and even a chained bear were rolled out from the inner field of the oval track. The spike barricades and the burning carts weren't that much of a surprise but, a viscous bear that went after everything in the middle of the track was just plain cruel.
The last phase of the race was even more cruel. During the switch in horses, the participants were allowed to use wooden swords, arach's, or spears. Not only that, but the midway point and the finish line were lit with burning pitch. This ensured that only the strong and brave won the race, no one who had finished the race could ever be called a coward. They could be called foolish, but, never a coward. If you finished the heat, you could move on to the next one but, the number of people who could move on without injury could usually be counted on one hand.
Ned looked at Arya with an accusing stare.
"What has he done?" He asked Arya.
Arya sighed.
"He's entered the race." Arya said.
Ned growled.
"Why?"
"Why do you think? He's a prideful and arrogant boy. You'll find those all over the place here." Arya said nonchalantly.
"When this is over, we're having a family meeting. If he doesn't get his head bashed in after the race, then he's getting it there. Also, I'll have a talk with your master about upping your chores or training. Clearly, you have too much time on your hands if you're helping your brother with such foolishness."
"But, I didn't do anything!" Arya protested.
"Exactly! You should have either talked him out of it or told me about it. Your inaction is going to get your brother hurt!" Ned said with some anger.
Arya sighed and nodded her head. She knew better than to talk back when her father was in one of those moods. It took a lot to anger the quiet wolf but, when he was angry, everyone knew to get out of his way.
"The race is starting." Sansa said.
Starting line…..
The GreatJon looked at the field. The Dothraki looked imposing on their horses but so did he. He was salivating at testing his mettle against these foreigners. They were supposed to be the best riders in the world but, they'd never met someone like him before. He quickly made his way to Ned's boy. He had started to grow some respects for Ned's pup. He wasn't cowardly like the rest of these southern cunts or even the northern cunts like Cley Cerwyn or those Karstark boys. Of course, he knew it wasn't strictly their fault. None of their lord fathers would let their heirs run in the race and he didn't blame them. He had barely let his own heir run in the second heat of the race on the morrow but, it didn't sit well with him that he, Robb, and his own heir Small Jon were the only Northerners in the race.
"Listen to me boy. When it starts, stick close to me and head for the back of the pack. Only the foolish ones battle it out on the first lap."
Robb nodded.
"Of course, my lord. I wouldn't have it any other way." Robb said.
The horn sounded and like he said the most foolish and wreckless of the Dothraki charged ahead. They were fighting amongst each other while Robb and the GreatJon kept their distance. One rider was punched in the head and fell off his horse immediately. Unfortunately for him, there were fifteen riders behind him. His head was stomped on by the ensuing riders causing many ooh's from the crowd. Robb grimaced as his own horse trampled on what used to be the unfortunate riders head.
"Keep your head up boy, or next it will be you on the ground." GreatJon said.
Robb nodded knowing it to be true. Robb was good rider but, this wasn't just a race around the wolfs wood, this race was dangerous. He'd never been so close to the edge of life and death…..and he loved it.
In the stands….
Tyr looked out onto the field. Gods he wished he were in the race. He'd show all those weaklings what a true rider was.
"So, Tyr, who do you think will win?" Khal Jon asked him.
Tyr didn't even have to think about the answer.
"Goro will win easily." Tyr said.
"Goro! I thought I told everyone that upper ko's weren't allowed to enter the race." Jon said with a hint of anger.
Tyr laughed at him.
"You did. But, don't you remember. You and Rhade demoted him to a regular rider last month. Something about beating up a couple of young ko's for talking down to him at a bar."
"God's damn him." Jon said.
Khal Jon thought of the beastly man that was Goro and sighed. He was one of the best riders he'd known but, he often declined a leadership role. Every time he'd promoted him to ko, Goro did something stupid and violent to get him demoted. He didn't care about leadership. He only cared about the fight. He shook his head at the Northmen who entered the race. They were in for a rude awakening if they thought they were going to win this thing.
In the field…
The Great Jon's strategy of hanging back had paid off. There were twelve riders left in the race, Robb and the GreatJon, among them. The first horse change was coming up and already, he could see the experience the Dothraki held as it seemed like it had taken them no time to mount and dismount their steeds.
Robb quickly jumped off his horse and raced towards the horse that one of the northmen held for him. He was about to mount his horse when a huge fist hit him in the back of the head. The crowd booed at the injustice but that didn't matter to Robb. He was seeing stars. When he finally got his bearings, he looked to the direction of the rider that hit him. He wasn't surprised when he saw a mountain of a Dothraki smiling at him. They were the last two to change horses but, he knew speed mattered less in the next portion of the race. It seemed that the Dothraki knew that as well because for the life of him the Dothraki didn't even seemed worried.
The Dothraki pointed to him, then he made a fist and drove it to his open hand. Robb didn't need to know Dothraki to understand what that meant and neither did the crowd. Robb got back on his horse spurred it on. He didn't know if he'd win the race or not, but, that didn't matter. Robb was incensed and the only thing that mattered was making that fucking Dothraki pay…
End of the Race part 1…