His guards were armored and ready to fight. Jaime walked to them, gripping the hilt of his Valyrian sword, Oathkeeper. His squire ran up to him and said, "They'll be upon us in moments."
"Who?" Jaime asked, squinting into the darkness, hoping to see them before they saw him.
"Lannister men." His squire replied, his voice calm. Jaime was always surprised by Peck's bravery and ability to remain collected even in the most dangerous of times. He was only sixteen with the beginnings of his first beard, so young. I was fifteen when I was knighted, age is but a number, Jaime thought, looking at his squire. Josmyn had killed several during the Battle of the Blackwater he was told, Jaime shouldn't doubt his abilities.
A low growl ripped through his throat. I'm going to kill Cersei next I see her. He was filled with rage, his body practically shaking because of it. He caught Brienne's eye and she raised an eyebrow at him. He knew she was asking if he was okay. He gave her a small nod, although he didn't feel okay. He felt like he wanted to hack the men Cersei had sent, limb from limb.
He could hear the horses thundering toward them. Is this the end of me? He had never fought with one hand before and he didn't like his odds of surviving. He vowed, if he lived, that he would train day and night with the Rock's master-at-arms until he was dead tired and dripping with sweat. He never wanted to feel this helpless before a fight again.
The sound grew louder by the second and Jaime said, "Ready yourselves." He heard the familiar scrape of metal on sheath and saw nine swords being drawn.
Ten horses appeared out of the darkness and a member of the Kingsguard led the way. Jaime wished suddenly that he had the rest of his guard with him, that they weren't making their slow way to them with the rest of their possessions. Instead of attacking them outright, the horses stopped within ten feet of Jaime and the men dismounted. Helms came off and Jaime recognized them immediately. The Kingsguard leader was Ser Meryn Trant. That cunt. Jaime shot daggers at the man and hoped he was the one to kill him. Ser Osmund Kettleblack was with Ser Meryn, as well as Ser Loras Tyrell.
"I am to be your lord when my father dies. I will not forget the slight you have presented me with today." Jaime called out to the riders, to the men not apart of the Kingsguard.
"We obey your father and the queen, not you, Kingslayer." One of them snarled, a man of House Estren. Jaime vaguely remembered that this man's lord, Regenard Estren, was still a captive at the Twins after serving under him at the Battle of the Whispering Wood. He understood his hate.
"You will not speak to our lord in such a matter." Brienne spat.
"What do you intend to do about it, woman?" Ser Osmund laughed.
"Slice you from balls to brain, for start." Brienne replied. The Crakehall brothers laughed.
Collectively, the men Ser Meryn had brought with him drew their swords. Ser Meryn said, "Come with us, Kingslayer, and there will be no need for any of this."
"Fuck you, Trant." Jaime snapped, drawing Oathkeeper from his sheath. Meryn Trant just laughed and unsheathed his sword.
"Wrong choice, Kingslayer." Ser Meryn swung his sword at Jaime, who blocked it clumsily with his own, almost dropping it. Ser Osmund Kettleblack attacked Brienne of Tarth, while the Estren man helped. Ser Loras Tyrell was the only one to hold back, watching the fight for damn near a minute before he was attacked by the eldest Crakehall.
"Where's your little bitch of a wife? I'll have a go with her once you're in chains." Ser Meryn Trant snarled. He swung at Jaime, who barely blocked the sword with his own.
"She would never let your tiny prick in her." Jaime spat, lunging at Meryn. He caught him under the ribs and had to wretch his sword away from the hole it made in the white armor.
"I'll just have to beat her like before and she won't know what's happening." He said, grunting as he swung for Jaime's head, setting aside his orders to return the queen's brother to King's Landing in chains but alive. Jaime ducked and swung Oathkeeper at Meryn, catching him across the chest. The older knight grunted in pain but kept at Jaime. Meryn Trant was dripping in sweat and red of face as he swung his sword repeatedly at Jaime, who was doing his best not to die. He had many cuts on the exposed parts of his body but Ser Meryn was in worse shape; Jaime figured he had never faced a Valyrian sword. Meryn said, "It still vexes me that I didn't get to rip her dress off her on your wedding night. That soft white flesh is a thing of beauty."
Jaime roared, "You'll never touch her!"
"I could just kill you. A cripple, so easy to take down."
"You're having a hard time of it, Ser Meryn." Ser Loras Tyrell shouted from his lazy fight with Ser Tybolt Crakehall. "Chain him and be done with it."
"I was a prisoner once, I don't plan on being one again." Jaime said, slicing through Meryn's gauntlet. Ser Meryn let out a howl of pain. His sword dropped to the ground, his hand still attached. "Not pleasant, is it? And no maester around to fix you. You're to die, Ser Meryn."
Brienne, who was having a fierce fight with Ser Osmund Kettleblack, tore her eyes away from her foe to shoot him a look of pure shock. She turned back to Ser Osmund; she had him on the run in no time, he was backing away from her advance with each trust of the sword. Jaime forced himself to look back at Meryn Trant on the ground. Blood was spurting from his wrist as he cried out in agony. It took him several minutes to get back up, picking up his sword with his left hand, his right hand falling to the ground.
"It looks I have the advantage now." Jaime chortled.
Ser Meryn shot him a glare. "It's finally a fair fight."
"No, Meryn. You would have to be a decent fighter for it to be a fair fight." He said, a wicked grin on his face. In one swift trust, Jaime's sword plunged through Meryn Trant's white Kingsguard armor. The hilt of Oathkeeper was against the damaged armor and Ser Meryn was choking on his own blood as he stared into Jaime's eyes. Jaime withdrew Oathkeeper but didn't stop his attack as Meryn fell lifelessly to the dirt. He hacked at the body, the Valyrian steel easily slicing through the armor, through bone. Blood flew through the air, splattering Jaime all over.
"Jaime!" Brienne shouted. He looked up, face and armor covered in blood. "He's dead."
"I aware." He replied dryly, looking down at Ser Meryn's bloody, mangled corpse. He leaned down and grabbed Meryn Trant's severed head. He tossed it at Ser Osmund, who caught it in disgust. "Some Lord Commander; beat by a cripple."
He picked up Meryn Trant's severed hand and gave it to Ser Loras Tyrell. "Present both to my sister and tell her she can't intimidate me. Go." He spoke slowly and calmly, but his eyes were narrow slits.
Ser Loras just nodded and motioned for Ser Osmund to mount his horse. Only two Lannister red cloaks on their side had survived; they mounted their horses with difficulty, aching all over. Ser Osmund put Meryn Trant's head in his saddlebag and mounted his steed. Ser Loras approached Jaime, who was looking at all of the dead. He had lost only two from his guard while the queen's men had lost six, among them the man from House Estren.
"The queen didn't want you harmed. Ser Meryn was a fool." Ser Loras said, holding Meryn Trant's hand by a finger. He continued, looking at Jaime, "My sister is to be Tommen's queen, I will make sure no one comes after you again."
Jaime actually smiled. "Many thanks, Ser Loras. You're honorable, rare in the Kingsguard." He leaned close to Ser Loras' ear. "Get out if you can."
Ser Loras gave him a queer look but nodded and turned to his horse, putting the hand in his saddlebag. He mounted the white courser and nodded again to Jaime before leading the small group away. Ser Osmund spat at Jaime as he passed. He wiped the spittle off of his cheek and flung it to the ground.
At the sound of the retreating horses, Jaime heard heavy canvas being thrown aside. Sansa was running toward him, dressed in a shift and draped in his Lannister cloak. She had tears in her eyes as she launched herself against his chest. He caught her as best he could, wrapping his arms around her waist, getting blood on her shift.
"I was worried, my lord." She said quietly into his shoulder. His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head.
"Never worry, my dear." He said softly, pulling back to look upon her face. He smiled before kissing her swiftly and saying, "I have some business to attend to, my lady. I will return to you in a few minutes time."
Sansa nodded and released him reluctantly. After she reentered the tent, Jaime said to his guard, "I need men to return Ser Robert to Hornvale, a day's journey, and Ser Samwell to the Crag."
Ser Steffon Swyft and Ser Merlon Crakehall stepped forward. Ser Steffon, after casting a sidelong glance at Merlon, said, "I shall return Ser Samwell, Ser Merlon shouldn't be too far from his brothers."
Jaime nodded and thanked them. They would leave on the morrow. Brienne of Tarth pulled Jaime aside as he made to retire for the night. She said, "You mustn't leave yourself two guards short, Jaime."
He just looked at her and said, "Ser Robert and Ser Samwell deserve more than to be buried in the mountains like peasants."
She bowed her head in compliance but said, "You leave only five to protect you and your lady. It is unwise, Jaime."
Jaime just shook his head. "We beat back Cersei's men. Ser Loras promised no more will come after us."
Brienne gave him a hard stare before walking away. Jaime frowned as she did so, wondering why she was being like this. He shook it off and walked slowly to the tent where his wife was waiting for him.