Songs of the Magi

The Knight of Hag's Mire

Hag's Mire was not a place for a proper knight. Perhaps, for his elder brother, Lord Walton Nayland – named in honour of one of their liege-lord's countless progeny – it sufficed as a seat on which he could rest his pale arse. For Ser Raymond, however, its dreary bogs and peaceful roads offered him little opportunity for glory – glory he sorely needed.

He was a fourth son of a knightly house. No keep or lands awaited him in the future: not unless he earned them through glorious deeds or gained them through marriage to a highborn maiden. However, to win the heart of a highborn maiden, he would need to be either far fairer of face, or much more than middling in the joust. As a middling jouster with indifferent looks, unless he wished to live off his brother's charity for the rest of his days, he would need to show his mettle through deeds.

It was for that reason that Ser Raymond of House Nayland had ridden north along with a trio of knights, leaving his family's keep miles behind. Hag's Mire might be a boggy backwater, but, the closer one rode to the Twins, the more likely it became that one might encounter bandits, who were known to accost rich travellers seeking to cross the Green Fork.

His hopes for glory even his far north of his home were slim, but, in the peaceful days which had followed the last Ironborn Rebellion, there was little better for a knight to do than hunting bandits. Also, the further from his brother's lands he rode, the more pleasant the scenery became, as the stinking grey bogs of Hag's Mire were gradually replaced by grassy plains.

"Oy, Rivers," his younger brother, a newly made knight, addressed the eldest of their quartet. "I've heard tell that you spent last night with the inn keeper's daughter, Bethany. Lookin' to pass on your name to a son?"

Edwyn Rivers – a red-haired, brown-eyed knight who had served his father when Raymond was still nursing – replied with a sigh.

"You know, Stevron, it is possible to spend a night with a woman without getting a bastard on her. Considering how you are with women, it's something you might want to learn if you don't want the father of every crofter's daughter between here and Riverrun out for your blood."

Stevron simply laughed. Unlike Raymond, who took after their father, Stevron had inherited the looks of their grandmother – a rare, blond-haired, green-eyed beauty who his father had said put even the Lannister queen to shame back when he was still alive.

Their fourth companion as they rode up the Green Fork – silent Ned Stone – said nothing, as was his way. He was as good a man as any in Hag's Mire with sword and shield, but, ever since his wife had died in the last winter, you had a better chance of getting a casual word out of a rock than silent Ned.

All in all, it was pleasant company, a pleasant, leisurely ride, and pleasant scenery. That was something, even if, two hours into their ride, they had still not seen anything worth commenting on, to say nothing of anything which might earn him some lands of his own.

Then, just as he was starting to consider turning back for the day, the world went white.

Panicking, his horse nearly threw Raymond off before he managed to regain control. Behind him, he could hear at least one of his companions falling off his saddle, as the knight's horse fled from whatever had just happened.

"What in the Seven Hells was that?" he wondered out loud, trying to blink the white spots out of his eyes.

Then Ser Raymond's vision began to clear, and his eyes widened.

Not more than twenty feet away, a castle had appeared along the road in front of him. He knew these lands well, and had visited the three keeps between his brother's seat and the Twins on many occasions. Each should have been at least two or three miles away, and even if he had somehow lost track of where he was, this was no landed knight's keep.

No. Unless his eyes deceived him, this castle – which he would swear by all the Gods had not been here even a moment ago – might even be as large as Riverrun, the great castle from which the Tullys ruled over all of the Riverlands. What sorcery was this?

"Seven Hells," Edwyn exclaimed, apparently catching sight of the impossible fortress as well. "How?"

Gathering his wits, Raymond turned towards his fellow knights, taking in their state.

It was his younger brother Stevron who had lost his horse. The two older knights had apparently managed their own mounts. Three knights – even thirty knights- could not hope to storm a castle like this one, but they should at least be able to find the front gate and ask just where in the Seven Hells this castle had come from. That probably would not earn him his keep, but it might be a start.

"Stevron, try to find your horse if it has not run too far. In the meantime, Edwyn, Ned and I will ride around this castle, and try to find out just whose seat it is, and how it came to be here."

Pulling his reins towards the blue-domed tower on his left, Raymond directed his horse in a steady trot, beneath the castle's fifteen foot walls. At a second glance, while still impressive in size and the quality of its construction, the castle seemed rather strange in some respects. A fifteen foot wall was not one any horse could jump, but, facing a siege or an assault, it would be easily overcome by short ladders or even a climbing hook and rope. There were also no arrow slits from which the defenders might strafe there foes. Instead, the walls were perfectly smooth – in fact, smoother than any walls he had ever seen.

As he round the blue-domed tower and finally caught sight of the castle's entrance, he found himself surprised again. No drawbridge or moat protected the fortress' most vulnerable point. In fact, the open arch seemed almost wholly undefended. If not for the handful of groggy footmen in front of the stone archway who were unsteadily rising to their feet, Ser Raymond might have thought the gate abandoned.

Riding up to one of the soldiers in front of the archway, who seemed to be using some sort of steel club to help him rise to his feet, Raymond called out, "Excuse me, good man, but whose castle is this, and how has it come to be here?"

The gate guard seemed to still be blinking spots out of his eyes, as he looked up at Raymond on horseback, but he answered all the same.

"It's Tristain's Academy of Magic, of course, what else would it be? And what do you mean, how did it come to be here? Are you drunk?"

Raymond raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I am beginning to wonder. It's not every day when a castle just appears out of thin air as I am riding along the Green Fork. Regardless, as this keep has appeared within the lands of my liege lord without warning, it is my duty to investigate it."

The guard looked even more sceptical at this pronouncement.

"Look friend, I'm not sure what you're trying to pull, but after whatever it is those noble brats just did, I'm not exactly in the mood for jokes. Either talk sense, or get going."

Behind him, two other guards pointed another pair of odd metal clubs in his direction in what he suspected was meant to be a threatening manner. He closed his eyes and sighed. He had been patient with these men, as they were clearly disoriented, but for common soldiers to belittle and threaten a nobleman like this was simply unacceptable.

Drawing his sword, Ser Raymond held the blade up in the air like a banner, hearing the reassuring sound of his fellow knights drawing their own steel.

"Perhaps I was unclear. These are the lands of House Nayland, granted to our house for our leal service to House Frey. In short, stand aside and show me to your lord, or you will taste castle-forged steel."

That was when the thunder sounded twice, and pain lanced through his gut, as if it had been pierced by a lance. Severely startled, his horse threw him to the ground, as Ser Edwyn and Ser Ned sought to calm their own steeds.

He was bleeding. What had happened? What he had thought were two clubs were now billowing black smoke. Were they what had caused the thunder?

"Right then. Threatening guards of the Academy is a punishable offence, so we'll be taking you to the headmaster for sentencing. As for your friends..." the guard trailed off menacingly.

Ser Edwyn and Ser Ned looked from their leader to the unnatural metal devices uncertainly, and then back again. Finally, Ser Edwyn spoke up.

"Raymond, we'll tell your brother of what has happened here. May the Seven give you strength."

Then both of his men turned around on their horses and trotted away at a steady gallop towards where they had left Raymond's younger brother moments ago. That, of course, was not the brother who they intended to tell.

Raymond managed a thin smile through the pain in his gut. As a noble prisoner, he would not be mistreated, and, once his eldest brother – the Lord of Hag's Mire – heard of his predicament, he doubted he would be a prisoner for much longer, strange, smoke-belching devices or not.

House Nayland was only a knightly house. Even if his brother mustered all his men, it was unlikely he would command more than two dozen knights and one hundred and fifty foot, but Raymond had not lied when he named them leal vassals of Lord Walder Frey. Trespassing on the lands of one of Lord Walder's vassals was an insult to House Frey. Taking a knight of one of Lord Walder's vassals hostage was an insult to House Frey. And Lord Walder Frey was not a man known for taking insults well at all.

As Ser Raymond was dragged to his feet, stripped of his armour and weapons, and then manhandled towards the central tower of this castle by a pair of its guards, he was already looking forward to the day very soon when the shoe would be on the other foot.