A/N: Heavy spoilers coming up.
Day Three Hundred And One
You know what makes humans special when compared to animals?" asked the kindly man.
"What?" asked Harry.
"The fact that we work together. We collaborate to achieve combined goals. We pass on knowledge to each other, so every generation begins its journey from the shoulders of the previous generation and not from scratch."
"I agree. But we are not the only ones who work in a pack. Other animals, like the wolves or lions, do it as well. But nobody does it on the scale that we do."
"Yes, that's true. But it's not always about collaboration. It is sometimes about competition as well. It's not always about peace. Many times, it's also about war."
Harry nodded.
"So the key point is that we humans are nothing individually," said the kindly man. "Our power flows from all of us. From the way all of us live together."
"Yes," agreed Harry. "And if we have to live together, we must have a way of life, right?"
"Yes. Some method for all of us to collaborate or compete with each other." "Most people believe there are many hundred ways of life in the world," said the kindly man. "Every religion thinks that it is unique in some way." Harry nodded in agreement. "But if you actually distil the way people live, there is only one way: The way of Death."
"I am fond of you, Harry of Hogwarts; but if you betray our way of life I will make sure to bring you the gift of the Many-Faced God most swiftly."
Previously in Valar Morghulis
"We all will leave at daybreak," Harry said standing up from his position on the kitchen floor. "Rattleshirt and raiders will climb wall tomorrow at earliest. Both of should take rest and say your goodbyes, for if this plan fails, you may not get chance to."
When Ygritte and Jon woke up next morning, the Wizard and his wolf were gone.
Chapter 6
Champion
POV
Harry
The sun was rapidly descending into the horizon, the twilit sky vibrant ochre. He was standing on a small hill, enjoying the evening breeze. The view was stunning. The gentle slope of the grassy hill descended into a sparsely forested plain, which ended in a sheer cliff at a far distance. The sun setting gently beyond the horizon completed the dramatic beauty of the tranquil moment.
Harry heard the soft footfalls. He immediately drew his sword. And started sprinting towards his wolf, who was pursuing an armed man. The man, showing surprising agility, was effortlessly navigating between the trees and undulating ground of the hillside, picking up pace. Harry remembered battling with a faceless man in the haunted forest beyond the Wall, when he had met Black for the first time.
"Black!" screamed Harry, as he rapidly drew his sword and started sprinting towards his wolf.
He'll run into a trap!
"Stop!" yelled Harry, picking up his pace as he saw his dash into a cluster of trees alongside the road. Black was totally focused on chasing a retreating hooded figure, in his true body, like a seasoned warrior with his prey in sight. It took a few moments for Harry to catch up with Black, to ascertain that he was safe. As they continued to give chase, Harry's focus shifted to the Man. He was shocked. How did that man find him so far in wolfswood? He took every precaution to be discreet in his rapid travel to the south.
The man, showing surprising agility, was effortlessly navigating between the trees and undulating ground of the hillside, picking up pace. Black was keeping pace to his left. He suddenly made a grunting sound and pointed to the right, to a fork in the path that was coming up. Harry nodded. They would split up and try to cut off the Man from opposite ends on the narrow ridge ahead. Harry dashed to his right with a renewed burst of speed, sword at the ready. Black stayed his course behind the Man, running equally hard. The ground beneath Harry's feet on the new path had evened out and he managed to cover the distance rapidly. He noticed that the Man had pulled his shield into his right hand. The wrong hand for defense. Harry frowned. Quickly coming up to the Man's right, with Black still some distance away, Harry reached with his left hand, drew a knife and flung it at the Man's neck. A stunned Harry then saw a magnificent maneuver that he hadn't imagined possible without Magic. Without turning to look at the knife or even breaking a step, the Man pulled his shield forward in the path of the knife. With the knife safely bouncing off the shield, the Man effortlessly let the shield clip on to his back, maintaining his pace. He blocked the knife without even looking at it! So have they finally sent a properly trained man to kill me?
Black meanwhile had maintained his pace, edging closer to the Man as Harry ran in from the other trail onto the path that the Man was on. Seeing Black cross the narrow ridge, Harry picked up speed, closing in on his wolf. Because of the steep angle of the sloping ridge, he could see the Man further ahead, reaching a wall at the bottom of the hill. The wall protected an abandoned castle at the base from animal attacks and trespassers. The height of the wall gave Harry hope. There was no way the Man could jump over it. He would have to climb, giving Black and him the crucial seconds needed to catch up and mount an attack.
The Man came to the same realization as well. As he neared the wall, he pirouetted on his heels, hands reaching to his sides, drawing out two swords. The sword in his right hand was a traditional long sword, glinting in the evening sun. The one in his left, a short sword with a strange double blade mounted on a central pivot at the hilt. Harry pulled his shield forward as he neared the Man. Black attacked the Man from his right.
The Man swung the long sword hard, forcing Black to step back. With Black on the back foot, the Man swerved with his left hand, making Harry duck to avoid a strike. As the Man's sword swept safely away, Harry jumped high and struck down from his height, a blow almost impossible to defend if the opponent is not holding a shield. The Man, however, effortlessly stepped back, avoiding the strike, while thrusting forward with his short sword, putting Harry on the back foot. The Wizard had to quickly swing his shield up to deflect the blow.
Harry and Black were yet to get a single strike on the Man, but he was progressively being forced to retreat. It was a matter of time before he would be pinned against the wall. And then, the Man swung ferociously with his left hand. The sword was too short to reach Harry and it appeared to be a wasted maneuver. Harry pushed forward, confident he would strike the Man on his torso. But the Man swung back, this time his thumb pressing a lever on the pivot of the short sword. One of the twin blades suddenly extended beyond the length of the other, doubling the reach of the sword. The blade cut Harry on his shoulder. Its poisoned edge sent a jolt of electricity through his body, temporarily immobilizing him. But Harry was schooled in same disciplines as the man. Swift assassination was Harry's area of specialty. Black charged from the right towards the hooded figure, grabbing his leg viciously. The hooded figure fell but not before stabbing deep through the eye of the wolf mauling his leg. Harry jumped once again on the hooded figure. He struck his sword brutally through the man's chest, deep into his heart. The faceless man fell on Black, dead.
Harry walked up to the dead man, "Forgive me brother but I can't accept your gift today."
Aftermath of fight saw Harry travelling parallel to the Kings Road rapidly. Black now back to his regular size and with both eyes working again was slightly miffed with Harry for foul tasting potion he was made to drink.
"Be glad that it was only an eye. Had his sword reached your brain even I could not have saved you." Harry said petting Black. "You should have come to get me when you smelled him instead of chasing him. He ran only because he never had seen wolf your size before. Had he fought you before I caught up to you would have been dead within moments."
Harry was not truly unhappy with Black but his wolf was too much like old him, always rushing in situations before thinking it through. Black merely sniffed once and wondered away in woods. That was all right by Harry as a village was coming and Harry needed a bath and some wine. It had been too long since he ate properly cooked food. Pace Harry had forced upon themselves didn't really left much time to such trivialities. The ridge slanted sharply from the earth. And below him the he could see and smell a settlement.
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The king is dead, they told him.
"The Imp opened his throat with a dagger," a man declared at the roadside inn where Harry spent the night. "He drank his blood from a big gold chalice."
"It was poison did the deed," the innkeeper insisted. "The boy's face turned black as a plum."
"May the Father judge him justly," murmured another man.
"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore a portly man nursing a cup of wine. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."
Harry had taken resident at an inn on Kings Road near the twins. It was there he had learned of the Red wedding and other recent events of seven kingdoms. Harry thought of Jon Snow, now a brotherless orphan. And another king is dead. Killed by his own uncle at Royal wedding, leaving Lady Margaery of house Tyrell as widow again. The dwarf must be incredibly stupid and brave to kill the cruel king.
After what had befallen Stannis Baratheon and Robb Stark, there was almost peace in Seven Kingdoms. There was still fighting in the riverlands, but everywhere the coils were tightening. Ser Gregor Clegane had crossed the Trident and seized the ruby ford, then captured Harrenhal almost effortlessly. Seagard had yielded to Black Walder Frey, Lord Randyll Tarly held Maidenpool, Duskendale, and the kingsroad. In the west, Ser Daven Lannister had linked up with Ser Forley Prester at the Golden Tooth for a march on Riverrun. Ser Ryman Frey was leading two thousand spears down from the Twins to join them. And Paxter Redwyne claimed his fleet would soon set sail from the Arbor, to begin the long voyage around Dorne and through the Stepstones. Stannis's Lyseni pirates would be outnumbered ten to one. The struggle that the maesters were calling the War of the Five Kings was all but at an end. It was time to make an entrance in the Game of thrones.
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POV
Tyrion Lannister
Alone in his tower cell with a blank parchment and a cup of wine, Tyrion found himself thinking of the trial. Second day has gone terrible. Judges were already convinced of his guilt, he had no witnesses, Lords and ladies and noble knights, highborn and humble alike, they had all been present at the wedding feast, had all seen Joffrey choke, his face turning as black as a Dornish plum. Lord Redwyne, Lord Celtigar, and Ser Flement Brax had heard Tyrion threaten the king; two serving men, a juggler, Lord Gyles, Ser Hobber Redwyne, and Ser Philip Foote had observed him fill the wedding chalice; Lady Merryweather swore that she had seen the dwarf drop something into the king's wine while Joffrey and Margaery were cutting the pie; old Estermont, young Peckledon, the singer Galyeon of Cuy, and the squires Morros and Jothos Slynt told how Tyrion had picked up the chalice as Joff was dying and poured out the last of the poisoned wine onto the floor. Trial by combat the only possible defense left to him. It had worked once, why not again? But Bronn had refused to help him.
He was not surprised by Bronn's decision of not helping him. He's always been an insolent black-hearted rogue. That's what Tyrion liked about him. Tyrion poured himself another cup of wine and took it to the window seat. Outside the day was grey and rainy, but the prospect was still more cheerful than his. Going up against Ser Gregor Clegane in his own person would be a bigger farce than Joffrey's jousting dwarfs. He did not intend to die with gales of laughter ringing in his ears. So much for trial by combat.
Later, when Ser Kevan paid his nightly visit, Tyrion asked for Varys.
"You believe the eunuch will speak in your defense?"
"I won't know until I have talked with him. Send him here, Uncle, if you would be so good."
"As you wish."
Late in night, as he sat by his window drinking, he heard voices outside his door. The eunuch came he thought at once, but it was not master of whisperers was not alone. A hooded figure was with him.
"I could not come by day. The queen had me watched." Lord Varys whispered.
"You're here now."
"Am I? Ah." Varys giggled.
"Varys, do you think I deed it?"
The eunuch sighed. "It does not matter what I think. I am here to help you my lord."
Tyrion snorted. "Help?" He rubbed at his nose. "Tell me, where is Shae? And my innocent maiden wife?"
"Shae was taken in custody by the Queen herself and I have found no trace of your wife in King's Landing sad to say. Lady Sansa was seen on the serpentine steps the night she vanished. After that, nothing. There was much confusion that night. My little birds are silent."
"How can you help me now? Perhaps you will champion me in trial by combat."
"I am not a fighter my lord but this man is and he is the best fighter in the known world." Varys said nodding towards the hooded man.
"How could you possibly know that?"
"My little birds told me. Knowing is their purpose, and mine."
Tyrion turned to the man. "Who in right mind will represent me? My sister will not forgive whoever helps me. You don't look much and that's compared to me," the dwarf said dryly. His mismatched eyes considered the man briefly.
"Men are seldom as they appear. You look so very guilty that I am convinced of your innocence. Still, you will likely be condemned. But I can save you." The man said looking in Dwarf's eyes.
"Ser Gregor Clegane is my sister's champion. He is almost eight feet tall and must weigh thirty stone, all of it muscle. He fights with a two-handed greatsword, but needs only one hand to wield it. He has been known to cut men double your size in half with a single blow. His armor is so heavy that no lesser man could bear the weight, let alone move in it.""
"And now tell me how could you save me?"
"By killing him in combat of course. You do not need to worry about the combat. I have faced much more skillful and big men, I am still alive and they are not."
"What is your price? What is that Varys has promised you?
"I do not pursue gold. I shall name my price after the trial. I have heard that a Lannister always pays his debts."
"Do you realize that you can die as well?"
"Valar morghulis little man. All men must die. But tomorrow is not the day I die."
A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing. Please ignore the terrible English. All readers wallow in misery on the printed page, but they never know that in real life, dull and uneventful as it is, what the pain and loss could really mean. Please do not take happiness and peace you all enjoy regularly as granted.