Horn Hill, 4th moon 293 AC
The arrow flew with a twang and with a thump it smacked into the target placed some twenty yards away. It had impacted to the left, between the outer and middle circles.
"Not a bad shot my lord, you're definitely getting closer to the center." said Ser Hyle
To Samwell's eyes it seemed no different than the last dozen shots he'd made. All hour it seemed he had shot a circle around the outer edges of the target. Ser Hyle's praises had grown faint by now. It was not his opinion that would matter. Samwell almost dared to look to where he knew his father was watching. Ser Hyle took notice.
"Don't let him unsettle your mind. The more you think the more you'll doubt. The more you doubt the worse your shot will grow. Just focus on the target and let it go." Ser Hyle tried to comfort him
It helped little, he hadn't been at Horn Hill long enough to truly know Lord Randyll Tarly, to know what he expected.
"Yes ser," was all Samwell replied.
With another twang the arrow went flying. In their mercy the gods let it enter the middle circle of the target. It was even close to the inner circle which wrapped around the bullseye. No doubt it was the best shot of the day.
"See my lord! I told you you were improving. You need to have more faith in me. I told you and your lord father I'd make a warrior out of you." Ser Hyle cheered, clapping a hand on his shoulder in congratulations. They had been shooting for the better part of an hour and it seemed Ser Hyle would end the session on his best shot yet. A smile had crept onto Samwell's face as he filled with belief that the knight's words may be right.
With this newfound confidence he mustered the courage to look towards his parents. His mother as always greeted his gaze with a beaming smile. Were it appropriate, he could imagine her shouting out praise to him. She likely would have wanted to do so had his arrows missed the target entirely. It was not her reaction that brought fear into Samwll's heart. Lord Randyll Tarly of Horn Hill stood next to her. A scowl rested on his face though that on its own was not cause for concern. Smiles did not come easy to Lord Tarly's face, if they ever did at all. He always seemed to stand tall with an imperious gaze, befitting the greatest of the Reach's marcher lords.
"Ser Hyle, do I have your leave to speak to my lord father and lady mother?" He asked politely of his master at arms.
"I won't keep you my lord. Go along, we'll have sword lessons later once you've had your lessons from the maester and taken a meal. Your previous trainers may have left you a bit behind but you are the furthest thing from a hopeless cause I promise you. There may just be a great knight within you!" Ser Hyle encouraged him again before setting him free.
Ser Hyle had been a suggestion of his mother and he could definitely see why. His father's previous masters at arms had all felt that he needed to be scolded into improvement. They had seemed more concerned with beating Samwell than actually training him. Needless to say, Samwell had not met theirs or his father's expectations. His mother suggested Ser Hyle may succeed where others had failed after speaking with him at a feast where House Hunt had hosted them. Father may have had his doubts but decided to indulge his mother's hopes for once. Samwell had improved greatly in the year Ser Hyle had spent training him. Samwell hoped that improvement might sate his father's need for a warrior heir.
He approached the wall from which his mother and father had watched. Father's gaze cut through him like fresh steel. Samwell begged the seven to let his father be satisfied.
"Did my effort please you father, mother?" Sam asked
His mother seemed to pause, waiting near as tensely as Sam was. Sam's grip on the bow tightened as his father momentarily left him in suspense. Finally, his jaw unclenched and he told Sam what he thought
"Your accuracy still requires improvement. A Tarly at your age should be more than capable of hitting a bullseye from such a distance." Lord Tarly stopped, seeming to think on what to say next. Sam's worry began to turn to frustration and anger as his own jaw started to clench, and the grip on his bow tightened.
'What more must I show you!' Sam thought the words he did not dare speak.
"However," his father began again, "I will not deny that you have clearly improved. If you can continue to do so, you may prove yourself a worthy heir. Do not disappoint."
It was not the praise Samwell had hoped for. It was certainly better than what his father had said to him previously, but it was not the praise or encouragement he sought. Perhaps it was a fool's errand to begin with. His father began to walk away. His mother gave him a toothless and sad seeming smile before turning to follow his father.
Sam lingered in the yard for a moment. His grip further tightening on the bow he held. He held it so tight his hand began to ache in pain but he refused to let go.
'What more must I show him before he will be satisfied? Must I become Aemon the Dragonknight by tomorrow? Would even that be enough?'
Samwell's jaw began to twitch as he started to walk back to the armory. His steps were hard, stamping onto the earth as though they may be able to injure it. Perhaps cracking the very ground this castle stood on would actually impress father. A chuckle almost escaped as Sam thoughthis father might criticize any damage as "too small" or "less than what a Tarly your age should be capable of,''. He'd heard similar phrases enough that they often played inside his head.
As he entered the armory Sam detected a snicker. It was a voice he could recognize well. The grey, black, and white of his clothes confirmed the identity of Garth Inchfield. The boy was the third son of Lord Otto Inchfield, one of his father's strongest vassals. He was a year his senior at one and ten but stood almost half a head shorter than Samwell.
"Is someone angry, father didn't give him the pat on the head he was looking for?" Garth said, failing to suppress further laughter.
Long had the Inchfield boy been a thorn in Sam's side. None laughed louder at his failures in the training yard. Same for feasts and tourneys. For almost three years Sam had bit his tongue. He believed the third son found pleasure in seeing the heir to a house treated so severely. It was simply petty resentment at one that has what he can't have. Those rationalizations would do little now. Emotions that Sam hadn't known he had were beginning to bubble up. Without responding, Sam approached the Inchfield boy, squeezing the bow so hard he thought he might crack the wood. He closed to such a short distance he could look down his nose at the boy. Sam hoped it might be enough to get Garth to back down; he should have known better.
"What's wrong Tarly, did I strike a nerve? What are you going to do? We both know nothing."
Sam's hand was now so tight around the bow his nails dug into his hands. He was seeing red. He wanted nothing more than to beat Garth with the bow, or punch him in the nose. What was holding him back? Father would probably be proud. Father probably wanted nothing more than to hear his son had beaten someone to within an inch of their life. He'd think doing so would make Sam more of a man. Perhaps that's why Garth had been sent to Horn Hill in the first place? Why couldn't Sam just do it?
The image of his mother provided the answer. Would she still smile down on him if she heard he'd beaten the boy? Would she still call him her sweet Sam or would she think him some little monster? He didn't want to ask that question of her.
Loosening his grip he turned away, saying nothing.
"I knew it! You're still a coward! Shoot all the arrows you want, you're still just a little coward!" Garth laughed at his mummers toughness
Sam remained silent as he placed the bow back among the others. Looking down at his hand he saw that he had drawn blood with his grip. He would need to ask Maester Lucan to bandage it before he started his lessons.
Hey all! Hope you enjoyed this! I'm posting this now as something of a preview. If people enjoy it (and I can continue to write it) I will starting posting more once I get a bit of a buffer built up? Will also do another proofread to fix any mistakes I didn't catch in this first chapter. See you (hopefully) soon!