Two chapters in one night! Let's see how this Trial by Seven goes, shall we? Enjoy!
Author's Note: Copious blood and gore ahead along with some swearing.
Gulltown
It would be an awkward night for King Daemon Targaryen and his men as they supped and conversed at Runestone. The atmosphere in Gulltown, especially in the residence of House Grafton, was jovial, almost as if the visit from Queen Rhaenyra and her forces had been planned. Lord Piers Grafton toasted his queen and her sons and grandson as they dined together on a creamy seafood stew which the overcompensating host said was based on a recipe from the Three Sisters, a trio of islands that resided northwest of the Fingers. Baelor very much enjoyed the stew, along with the frosted lemon cakes that Piers' wife, Lady Ellyn Butterwell, provided for him as she gushed over how cute he was. While the Lady of Gulltown and Rhaenyra happily discussed each other's grandchildren, her ladyship's husband had an awkward conversation during which the former remained quiet while the queen's Master of Ships gushed over their distant kinship due to Piers being the grandson of Bartimos's great-grandaunt, Lady Prudence Celtigar.
As the Grafton's exchanged pleasantries with the Targaryen's, Houses Shett and Arryn spent the night under both house arrest and the watchful eyes of Sers Roger Beesbury and Erryck Cargyll in sullen silence; Lord Borros Baratheon had joined his queen at Lord Grafton's dinner table. This peace would be troubled the following morning after a raven from Runestone arrived bearing a letter from Daemon. Rhaenyra poured over the parchment as she ate a piece of bread, and she nearly choked on it when she reached the part where her husband had written that Eldric had requested a trial by seven. Lucerys noticed his mother's distress.
"Mother, are you alright?"
"Yes, I am fine, Luke." Rhaenyra said as she dabbed her lips free of breadcrumbs, embarrassment tinting her skin in a rosy color. When she was done, the queen explained what the cause of her distress was to her startled, wide-eyed family and hosts.
"Ser Eldric wants a trial by seven?" Bartimos said, repeating what his queen had said.
"It will be the first one in nearly a hundred years." commented Lord Grafton.
"What's a trial by seven?" Baelor asked as he looked up at both his father and grandmother from his breakfast of buttered bread, eggs, thick-cut bacon, and, courtesy of Lady Ellyn, a frosted lemon cake.
"A trial by seven is an organized battle that is fought between two groups of seven people to honor the gods, Baelor." Jacaerys explained to his son. "And what does seven plus seven equal?"
"Fourteen." beamed the proud little prince, earning him warm congratulations from his father and grandmother, and another lemon cake from Lady Grafton.
"And speaking of fourteen," Jace said as a servant traversed to the kitchens to fetch the confection for the crown prince's son, "has Eldric named six champions to fight on his side? Ser Joffrey Arryn needs to be informed of this too so that he can find champions as well."
"No." Rhaenyra said as she looked over the letter again. "Daemon said he will send another raven once Eldric does get his champions."
"Oblige me, if you may, your grace." spoke up Borros. "But I would like to pledge myself as Ser Joffrey Arryn's champion for this trial in advance."
Before Rhaenyra could reply to the Lord of Storm's End's proclamation, Lord Grafton made a suggestion.
"Should Ser Isembard be made aware of this? He is a claimant after all."
"No, absolutely not." Rhaenyra said as she shook her head. "Isembard is a pretender. The only true allies that he has are his own flesh and blood. The others were all bought with gold and promises."
As this conversation went on, the servant who had been dispatched to fetch the lemon cake for Prince Baelor Targaryen listened to what was being said, hiding herself beside the door leading to the great hall. After delivering the cake, the excited servant went back to the kitchen to tell her friend, a laundress, as she broke her fast, about the trial of seven. Later that morning, the laundress told her cohorts about the trial as they washed the bedsheets and linens with water and lye. The news spread further after the wrought iron handle of the water bucket for the well broke out of the old, soft wood, and the frustrated laundress sent her niece to go to the carpenter to make a new bucket with the old handle. The laundress's niece shared what she learned from her aunt about the trial with the carpenter after she paid him for the job.
This was overheard by a passing basket weaver who was on her way to deliver a basket to her friend, a fishwife, at the docks. Sharing what she overheard, the fishwife later told her daughter, who was servant for the Gulltown Arryn's, when she came to purchase some sole for the family's supper that evening. Other than being a servant, the girl was also the lover of Ser Isaac Arryn, and she told him about what her mother had shared with her during one of their liaisons later that night. Isaac was more than happy to share with his father and brothers what he had learned from his lover. The following morning, three letters arrived at the Grafton residence addressed to the queen, two being delivered via raven from the Eyrie and Runestone, and one by Ser Roger Beesbury of the Queensguard himself on horseback.
Understandably, the queen was quite angry when she learned from Roger that Isembard announced his desire to partake in the trial alongside Sers Eldric and Joffrey.
"How did Isembard learn about this!?" Rhaenyra said as she paced about the Lord of Gulltown's solar. Piers noticed with alarm on how red his queen's skin was becoming. He was desperate to placate her.
"I did not inform Isembard, your grace!" Piers said carefully with a tone of fearfulness. "I was with you and your host all day yesterday. The servants must have overheard, you know how they like to gossip."
Rhaenyra was still fuming, and Piers was too hesitant to say another word. It was Jacaerys who had the courage to say more.
"Mother," Jace began cautiously, "we all know that Isembard's request to take part in the Trial by Seven cannot be denied because he is highborn."
"I know that, Jace." Rhaenyra hissed, angry at the situation, not at her son. "I am just furious that this is not working out as planned."
Jace sighed patiently at his mother's frustration. "There is a silver lining to this though."
"And where would that be?" the queen asked, anger boiling under her tone.
"This crisis is between Joffrey and Eldric." the crown prince began carefully. "Isembard is by all means a pretender just like you said yesterday, mother. I would wager that Isembard would be the first to fall during the trial because Joffrey and Eldric would want to be rid of their unworthy and grasping rival first before going after each other. Such a defeat would impart a good and bloody lesson to the Gilded Falcon's sons and him himself if he were to survive the trial."
"Yes," spoke up the quiet Lucerys, "do not be a pretender. There is no room for men like that. Pretenders usually end up dead."
Weighing in on what her two eldest sons had said, Rhaenyra's fury slowly began to dissipate. She reluctantly allowed Ser Isembard Arryn to defend his "claim" in the "Trial of Seven at Gulltown." Although mountainous and sparsely populated, news of this sensational and historical twenty-one man trial spread throughout the Vale of Arryn like wildfire. Daemon couldn't help by grin ear to ear when the raven bearing the sensational news from Gulltown arrived at Runestone. Looks like his sword-arm will be getting a hell of workout!
One week after the trial was announced, the Arryn's assembled into Gulltown. Banners depicting the sigils of Houses Arryn, Coldwater, Corbray, Crayne, Dutton, Hunter, Redfort, Templeton, and Wydman fluttered in the chilly, salty breeze as the processions of Joffrey and Eldric made their way through the streets of Gulltown. The two cavalcades stopped once they arrived in the town square. Wooden stands had been constructed in the square; the merchant stalls having been cleared up in order to accommodate the structures, the merchants taking their business to the streets themselves. Greeting the two hosts were the Gilded Falcon and his followers, the queen's host, and the Grafton's.
The king's host also arrived at Gulltown with the Arryn-Royce contingent, and Daemon flew into town on the back of Caraxes. Syrax, Vermax, and Arrax heralded the Bloodwrym's arrival with loud hisses and reptilian squeals. Daemon made a grand entrance when he landed in the square and dismounted Caraxes. The citizens of Gulltown, meanwhile, watched the unfolding spectacle in awe. The past week had been a very interesting one for the wealthy harbor town, and the people were psyched for the trial by seven.
The stands were already full with people, with curious onlookers standing about in the streets to get a good look at the proceedings. Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen and Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon with Ser Addam of Hull and eleven year old Lord Percival Wylde sat in the biggest stand with Lord Piers Grafton that was covered with a large awning that depicted the sigil of his house: a yellow tower topped with a burning flame which rested in a black upside-down triangle that in turn was framed by a fire-red 'V'. The Celtigar's, Massey's, and Alyn of Hull sat in the stand too, and they were later joined by Lords Manfryd Caron and Gunthor Darklyn along with the other prominent members of the royal host. Prince Baelor Targaryen was not with his grandmother, father, and uncle. To spare her beloved grandchild from the incoming bloodshed that was to result from this unexpected trial, Rhaenyra had Baelor stay at the Grafton Manor with Lady Ellyn Butterwell to play with her grandchildren under the watchful eye of Ser Clothair Blackwood of the Queensguard.
Caraxes flew away from the town square to join the other dragons as they flew above Gulltown. King Daemon walked up to Ser Joffrey Arryn's host, and they were soon joined by the Lord of Storm's End, who was bedecked in plate armor that had a surcoat depicting House Baratheon's heraldry: a black stag on a yellow field, and the helm was decorated with a large pair of antlers. The king's armor was even more impressive than Borros's. It was black plate armor that possessed a helm that had dragon wings on it, and the Targaryen three-headed dragon embossed on the breastplate. Even the weapons were a sight to behold, with Daemon wielding Dark Sister, and Borros possessing a battle-axe.
Ser Joffrey Arryn and his host dismounted from their horses and bowed before their king.
"My lords," uttered Joffrey as Daemon and Borros stood before him, "you honor me with your presence. I am forever grateful that you two volunteered yourselves to become my champions in this hallowed trial."
Excited whispering spread through the audience like wildfire. The Gilded Falcon and his followers exchanged glances and whispered amongst themselves. Eldric remained stoic while his Royce hosts grumbled. Gods or no gods, Joffrey's chances of securing his inheritance had doubled now since two of Westeros's most formidable men had pledged their blades to him. Ser Arryn then introduced his other four champions to all those who were gathered.
"My lords, I present to you my third champion, Ser Corwyn Corbray."
Boos and jeers coming from the other two Arryn hosts could be heard.
"Traitor!" shouted Lord Gunthor Royce. "You brought this all down on us by writing that damn letter!"
"Yes! Why could you not leave well enough alone?" demanded Ser Elmar Arryn.
Corwyn remained stoic as he endured this barrage of verbal abuse from his liege's enemies, but he did ball his armored hands into fists. Ser Corbray's two daughters from his late wife sat in the stands with their Uncle Leowyn and his mistress. Most of the gathered lord and ladies who sat next to Leowyn did their best to discretely shuffle away from him since the man was known to be loudly flatulent. Joffrey moved on to the next man.
"Ser Adrian Redfort, the brother of my late cousin Jeyne's dear friend, Lady Jessamyn." Joffrey then gestured towards the stands to a woman who was draped from head to toe in mourning black, who bowed her head respectfully towards Joffrey. The man moved on.
"And my last two champions, Lords Edgar Crayne and Rickard Hunter."
Clapping was heard, and before long, it was Ser Eldric Arryn's turn to introduce his six champions. Of course, his main two champions were Ser Willam and Lord Gunthor Royce. The Lord of Runestone's daughters and Gunthor's family were now seated in the stands too. Speaking of Willam's daughters, the youngest Lady Royce had bequeathed her favor upon her fiancé, and Eldric was wearing a white hair ribbon on his left bicep. House Royce's presence made the queen and the Celtigar's somewhat uncomfortable due to the ties and history that was shared between the three families.
Ser Clement Celtigar could not help but notice how his cousin-in-law's kinsmen were snubbing both him and his family while Rhaenyra I quietly lamented on how her maternal extended family were all present now but were so visibly divided. Other than being a quarter Arryn on her mother's side, Rhaenyra also possessed Royce ancestry due to her maternal great-grandfather, Ser Rymond Arryn, being one of the six sons of Hubert Arryn and his Royce wife, the second Lord and Lady of the Eyrie to rule after Aegon's Conquest. This gathering of the Vale lords could almost be viewed as being one big, dramatic family reunion for both the queen and her family. As Rhaenyra brooded over this, Eldric continued with the introductions.
"Ser Gyles Coldwater." said Eldric as he gestured towards a lean man wearing grey plate armor with a surcoat depicting the coat-of-arms of House Coldwater of Coldwater Burn: a blue 'Y' with white bordering on a red field. Gyles was also wearing a great-helm on his head, preventing anyone from seeing what he looked like.
"He looks like a brute." remarked Lucerys as he studied Gyles. Although Ser Coldwater was some distance away from the royal box, it appeared that he had somehow heard what the prince had said, and he swiveled his head towards Luke. The prince clammed up when he saw Gyles look his way.
"Lords Simon Shett and Thomas Templeton," continued Eldric, "and Ser Geremy Dutton."
Clapping resounded in the square again, and it was the Gilded Falcon's turn to introduce his champions. Just as his namesake implied, Isembard was wearing his trademark golden armor. Both Joffrey and Eldric and their champions glared at Isembard and his men.
"Your grace," Isembard began, "my two oldest sons, Isaac and Elmar."
Both men bowed their heads.
"Soran of Myr." Snorts of contempt and racist remarks could be heard coming from the crowd. The bronze skinned man looked undeterred by the words, instead, he seemed to revel in it.
"Merick Stone." Piers shifted uncomfortably in his chair unseen by the queen and her sons. However, some of Gulltown's citizens looked in their lord's direction after Merick's name was announced. It was rumored that Merick Stone was the bastard son of the Lord of Gulltown. Although Piers had denounced Isembard after Rhaenyra had arrived in Gulltown, it seemed that he still retained a smidgen of loyalty to the Gilded Falcon, and he had commanded his rumored lovechild to fight for Isembard secretly on his father's behalf.
"Lord Gerold Shett and Ser Laurence Wydman."
"His heraldry is interesting." remarked the queen when she saw Ser Laurence's shield. The main colors were yellow and white. At the top of the shield was a white bar that depicted a red castle, a hissing green snake, a broken black wheel, a purple unicorn, and a golden lion. Below the white bar was a yellow field that depicted five broken blue and white striped lances.
"There is an interesting story about that heraldry." Lord Grafton said.
"Go on." encouraged the interested Rhaenyra.
"Many centuries ago, the founder of House Wydman defeated five jousters in a tourney that they were all participating in. Those five men who the first Lord Wydman had defeated had come from Houses Redfort, Lynderly, Waynwood, Brax, and Lannister. The heraldry and broken lances of those men were incorporated into the family's coat-of-arm's in honor of Lord Wydman's victory and martial prowess."
"Fascinating." replied Rhaenyra before becoming silent.
While she did feel overwhelmingly confident that the trial would be won by Joffrey (most likely by Daemon to be honest), Rhaenyra did begin to feel a creeping sense of anxiety about the whole thing. The Vale of Arryn was known for producing the finest knights in the realm and Rhaenyra did worry for her aging husband. Although the fifty-three year old Daemon was in peak physical condition, he was beginning to feel the aches and pains of old age every now and then. Lord Commander Steffon and the Red Keep's master-at-arms had reported that Daemon's reflexes in the training yard were becoming slower and that he was getting tired quicker too. Daemon of course would blow of his wife's concerns whenever she broached them to him privately, telling her that he was fine and that there was nothing wrong.
"Stop worrying yourself woman!" Rhaenyra told herself. "Daemon will be fine. He will be fine…"
Inhaling deeply to calm her nerves, Rhaenyra asked a servant to get her some hot mulled wine. The wine was contained in a large, lidded silver bowl that was resting on a brazier full of hot coals. Slices of expensive lemon and ginger root floated alongside cinnamon sticks and clove buds in the dark red wine inside the bowl. The servant ladled out the wine into a silver goblet, and he presented the queen with it before serving the other occupants in the box. Much to Rhaenyra's delight, the mulled wine had also been flavored with honey.
As the queen sipped her wine, the combatants formed their positions. Joffrey and his champions positioned themselves in front of the royal box. Eldric and his men stood in front of the stands where his Royce allies were seated. Isembard and his men took position in front of the stands opposite of the Arryn-Royce fighters. All was quiet in the town square save for the occasional squawking of seagulls, the soft rattle of chain-mail, and the clunking of plate armor as it moved.
After all of the combatants had been assembled, the place was dead silent and it was quite eerie. Everyone was waiting for the Trial to begin. In order for it to begin however, Queen Rhaenyra had to give the signal. Looking around at the three lines of men who were poised and ready to spill blood on the cobblestones, Rhaenyra took a deep breath before nodding (her heart beating fast) and uttering a single word.
"Begin."
That single word caused a cacophony of battle cries to surge out from the mouths of the men as they charged each other. Swords were unsheathed, and maces and battle-axes were held up in the air as three flanks of adrenaline and testosterone fueled men closed in on each other. Battle cries were soon mixed with the jarring sounds of blades clashing as the warriors all made contact. People were on the edge of their seats as they watched the trial by seven commence. Even the dragons appeared to be watching from their roosts on the roofs of the buildings by the square.
It was pure bloody chaos.
Contrary to what the Prince of Dragonstone had predicted, Joffrey and Eldric's forces did not gang up on the Gilded Falcon and his men. Instead, it was a brutal and violent clash of men who had randomly selected their opponents. Unbelievably, the first five minutes of the Trial saw its first casualties. Soran of Myr charged Ser Corwyn Corbray even though the former was clearly outmatched. Clad in makeshift armor that consisted of cloth, leather, and a dented iron cuirass while confronting a man who was protected by a suit of plate armor, Soran might as well have been running up to the Stranger itself!
Ser Corbray easily parried the mercenary's strike with Lady Forlorn. In one swift movement, Corwyn brought Lady Forlorn down and he thrusted the tip through Soran's lower abdomen, which was unprotected. Cold Valyrian Steel pierced through the Myrman's flesh and cut through his small intestines before the tip finally found its home in one of his vertebrae. Gasps of horror and macabre delight rose up from the stands when Corwyn dealt the grisly blow.
"Ooo…" Rhaenyra murmured through pursed lips. She almost felt sorry for Soran. Poor Soran, meanwhile, realized that, other than not being able to feel pain right away due to shock, he could not move anything from the waist down. Unable to balance himself, Soran fell backward, and Corwyn pulled his sword out of the man's abdomen.
Soran clutched his wound and groaned with pain as his life's blood ebbed out from his abdomen. Although the man was a lowlife, Corwyn did expect to have a somewhat more challenging fight from a sellsword. Then again, most of the "quality" sellswords from Myr had been slain during the Daughters' War, and the remaining few who could qualify as decent warriors were laying low since the former Three Daughters were now under occupation. Not even the Gilded Falcon's coin could coax these men into picking up their swords again; only the dregs at the bottom of the mercenary barrel answered his request. Unfortunately for Isembard, he did not get his money's worth with Soran.
The second casualty followed soon after Soran began his death throes. Merick Stone had taken on Ser Geremy Dutton while Corwyn brutally cut down his foe. Unlike the Myrman, Merick wore more armor, but he was just as unskilled. Ser Dutton smirked when he saw the lad coming at him. Merick swung his sword towards Ser Dutton, who easily blocked the incoming strike with his shield.
Geremy attempted to stab his opponent, but Merick in turn blocked that with his buckler shield. The tip of Geremy's sword scratched the leather that covered the oaken surface of the shield. Undeterred by the young Stone's resistance, the knight kept thrusting his blade in hopes of finding bypassing the shield and hitting one of Merick's vital points. Quickly becoming frustrated with Merick's buckler, Geremy made a fake thrust towards his opponent. Merick reflexively rose his shield up to defend himself, only for Ser Dutton to suddenly swing his downward towards his left knee.
The chain-mail and leather that protected Merick's knee prevented Geremy's blade from cutting through the former's leg, but the strike had been delivered with enough force to snap some of the metal rings, and the sharp edge of the sword became embedded in Merick's patella. The baseborn warrior let out a harrowing scream of pain as blood began to run down his leg as Ser Dutton tried to push his blade further through the poor man's knee. Although in great pain, Merick tightened his grip on his sword, and he attempted to swing it down on Geremy's right wrist. But Geremy had quicker reflexes, for he deflected his foe's desperate swing with his shield. Prying his blade out of Merick's knee and taking one quick step back, Geremy then swung his own sword up towards his opponent's face.
Razor sharp steel cut through Merick Stone's chin, slicing up through his mandible and maxilla before stopping halfway through his forehead. Horrified gasping could be heard, and Rhaenyra and her sons cringed with gritted teeth when they saw what had happened as Lord Piers looked away with tightly closed eyes, unable to watch Merick die. Blood of the darkest red began to stream down from the gruesome, fatal injury that had been inflicted to Merick. His limp body fell down after the victorious Ser Geremy Dutton had removed his sword from Merick's face. Two men down, nineteen more left.
Now bereft of opponents, Sers Corwyn Corbray and Geremy Dutton looked at each other before yelling and charging at each other. While the two men who had fallen were improperly trained for the most part, the remaining men were all of noble blood and were trained warriors of varying ferocity and strength. King Daemon Targaryen clashed with Ser Willam Royce, the air that surrounded them echoing with the chaotic madrigal of two Valyrian Steel swords, Dark Sister and House Royce's ancestral weapon, "Lamentation", as they clashed. As the Lord of Runestone clashed with his late aunt's former husband, the Bronze Giant fought against Lord Borros Baratheon. Sers Isembard Arryn and Gyles Coldwater crossed swords while the former's sons, Isaac and Elmar, fought their respective foes, Lords Simon Shett and Edgar Crayne.
Ser Rickard Hunter sparred with Ser Laurence Wydman, both Lords Thomas Templeton and Gerold Shett went after Ser Adrian Redfort. As this went on, Sers Eldric and Joffrey Arryn clashed in an intense and dramatic dual as the two vied for control over the Vale of Arryn. As the men fought, everyone in the audience were on the edge of their seats. People began speculating on who would fall next; some even began placing bets, some simply watched the bloody Trial in a tense silence. The queen and the two Velaryon princes were the latter three.
Rhaenyra betrayed her earlier self-assurances as she watched the Trial. She looked on the gruesome spectacle with worried purple eyes, turning the rings on her fingers, her heart rate speeding up. Jacaerys and Lucerys were at the edge of their seats. Jace was leaning forward with his right thumb and index finger clutching his chin, his countenance reminiscent of a novice maester contemplating a glass candle at the Citadel. Luke's eyes darted from one champion to the other, keeping track of who was still standing and who was ready to fall next.
Corwyn quickly dispatched his foe with one quick blow to Geremy's neck. Valyrian Steel is sharper and more powerful than regular steel, and Lady Forlorn's sharp edge cut through Ser Dutton's chain-mail as if it were butter. Geremy fell to the ground with blood spurting out of his neck wound after Corwyn had dealt the grievous blow. Three down, eighteen more to go. Ser Corbray ran over to Adrian to assist him in his battle against Lords Shett and Templeton.
Meanwhile, Borros was having the time of his life. Sparring with Lord Gunthor Royce was the most exhilarating fight Borros had ever fought in, and he was a veteran of many skirmishes against the Dornish since his youth. Gunthor was strong and fearless despite his age, and even the slightly younger Lord of Storm's End found himself struggling against Gunthor's might whenever their respective axe and longsword clashed.
"You are a disgrace, Lord Baratheon!" taunted Gunthor.
"What!?" snapped the outraged Borros, his skin turning wine red as he countered a strike from Gunthor with his axe.
"Look at you." Gunthor snarled both with contempt and frustration as he tried to land a direct hit on his opponent, "You are the Lord of Storm's End, and the queen and her sons treat you like a damn lapdog! Pathetic!"
Borros's blue eyes widened, a vein popped through his forehead unseen by his helm, and he grit his teeth with rage as his family's famous temper began to overwhelm him. "Ours is the Fury" indeed. Roaring with a primal passion, Borros swung his axe around with newfound swiftness and violence that put Lord Royce on his toes. Borros, even in the midst of his fury, saw an opening during his onslaught against the Bronze Giant. Bringing his right hand back, Borros swung the axe's blade with all his might into Gunthor's left side just beneath his ribs.
The axe cut deep enough into the Bronze Giant's side to slice through his spleen and nick his stomach. So much for the mystical properties of House Royce's bronze armor. As Borros tried to tear his axe out from Gunthor's side as the latter did his best not to scream, another man yelled in Lord Royce's place. The yell had been preceded by Ser Laurence Wydman's spiked morning star slamming into Ser Rickard Hunter's right elbow. The force of the morning star's blow was strong enough to break Ser Hunter's elbow.
Ser Wydman was not done yet, however. As Rickard screamed and grabbed his wounded arm, his foe swung his morning star towards his face. The spiked ball crashed into the right side of Rickard's covered face hard enough to break his cheekbone and jaw and loosening some teeth. Four down, seventeen more to go. Laurence heard Borro's wrathful yell, and he turned in time to see the man plunge his axe into Lord Gunthor Royce's side.
Seeing that both men were occupied, a confident Laurence smirked to himself, and ran towards Borros and Gunthor. Lord Baratheon had just pulled out his axe when Laurence slammed his morning star into the back of his head. The steel helm suffered a large dent from the hit, and the spike left behind white scratches in the metal. Enraged and nearly rabid just a minute before, Borros suddenly became quiet and still, and he collapsed shortly after the blow had been dealt to the back of his head. An opportunistic Laurence then swung his morning star right into the stunned Gunthor's face.
Seven down, fourteen more to go. Cries of horror came the Royce's when they watched the Bronze Giant fall down alongside Borros. Rhaenyra pressed her hand against her heart as she watched the spectacle unfold. Her skin had become pale, and her heart was racing as fast as a horse. Even the dragons were getting anxious; their hissing and snarling went unheard however due to the loud noises coming from the Trial.
Having taken down three men in quick succession had emboldened Ser Wydman. This newfound confidence, however, made Laurence too cocky. He saw the king and the Lord of Runestone crossing swords and decided to test his luck even further.
"Warrior guide my hand." whispered Laurence to himself as he charged towards the two men. Rhaenyra saw Ser Wydman charging towards her husband and Willam; she began to panic when it became apparent that Daemon was unaware of the incoming blitz attack.
"Daemon!" The queen said aloud, startling the audience.
Sun glinting off of Ser Laurence Wydman's armor was caught in Daemon peripheral vision. The king turned to see Laurence preparing to swing his morning star into his head. Before the spiked ball could fall, Dark Sister was moved from Lamentation's edge and was wrapped with the morning star's chain. Pooling his strength into his arms, Daemon yanked his hands over to his left, tearing Laurence's weapon out of his hands. The king then drew his sword back over his right shoulder before plunging it into Ser Wydman's throat.
Laurence fell to his knees as blood began to flood his mouth and he began to choke. Daemon heard the familiar sound of metal hitting metal, which was soon followed by the gory sound of flesh being cut and blood being spilled. Turning around quickly, Daemon saw that, while he was busy dealing with Laurence, Willam had slain Lord Edgar Crayne, who had rushed to attack the Lord of Runestone after defeating his opponent. Looking over Willam's shoulder, Daemon could see that the Gilded Falcon's faction had been defeated. Ser Elmar Arryn was cradling the body of his deceased brother Isaac as their father laid on the cobblestones dying from his wounds.
Lord Simon Shett was lying dead by the men. Moving his gaze to his right, Daemon saw an exhausted and blood-spattered Ser Corbray trying to pull himself up with Lady Forlorn as an equally battered and tired looking Ser Gyles Coldwater sauntered over towards him from the fallen Gilded Falcon and his sons. The bodies of Ser Adrian Redfort and Lords Thomas Templeton and Gerold Shett surrounded him. Joffrey and Eldric were still locked in mortal combat with the same energy and vigor that they had when the Trial first started. Fifteen down, six more to go.
"Daemon."
The king turned to the direction of the voice when Lamentation's gleaming tip suddenly came into view. The blade was swung with great deftness and precision for the tip fit perfectly through the eye slits of the visor on Daemon's helm. Cold, sharp metal cut through the soft jelly of the Rogue Prince's left eye, and everything went black on that side of his face as blood and pain poured from the wound.
"Ah!"
Daemon clamped his left hand over his face as he stumbled backwards from Willam. His wife leapt up from her chair, startling her host as Jace and Luke's jaws hit the floor. The audience let out a collective gasp when Willam blinded the king. Left side of his face smarting, Daemon saw his opponent move forward to take another swing at him with Lamentation. The king blocked the strike with Dark Sister, returning his left hand to the hilt of his sword to strengthen his block.
"You little shit!" growled the furious and wounded king. Blood poured down from Daemon's wound, painting his cheek scarlet. Daemon, although angry that he had lost an eye, was more enraged about having been distracted, which had allowed him to be bested by his hated late wife's nephew.
"Serves you right, your grace." William said calmly as he crossed blades with Daemon. "You treated my aunt like dirt when she was alive, and you treated my family the same way. Your wife thinks that she can interfere in every squabble just because she sits on the Iron Throne. Both you and Rhaenyra think that because the Dragon's blood flows through your veins makes you and your kin above reproach.
But dragons are not impervious to iron or Valyrian Steel, nor are they above the law of the Seven themselves. And by the Seven above, I, Ser Willam of House Royce, will make you, King Daemon Targaryen, answer for your indiscretions against my kin!"
Willam stood back and withdrew Lamentation before unleashing a vicious onslaught against the King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon did his best to match Willam blow for blow, but his recently acquired disability made blocking difficult. Daemon could not easily track Ser Royce's movements with one eye, and the latter was quick to pick up on that. Willam swung Lamentation up on Daemon's left. The edge of the sword got caught beneath the wing on Daemon's helm, the momentum pulling it off of his head.
Queen Rhaenyra watched the hair-raising scene with one hand over her mouth and another firmly clamped on the railing of the royal box. Both Jacaerys and Lucerys were standing up now too, their eyes wide with worry for their stepfather. The winter sun beat down on Daemon's silver-white hair, making it glow in the sunlight. All eyes were on the king and the Lord of Runestone, even the remaining fighters Sers Joffrey and Eldric Arryn, and Corwyn Corbray and Gyles Coldwater stopped fighting to watch the duel between Daemon and Willam; a sorrowful Elmar watched with the bodies of his dead father and brother laying by him. Family honor and Daemon's reputation as an invincible warrior were now on the line.
His temper having reached volcanic proportions, a red-faced (both figuratively and literally) Daemon made the first move. Willam quickly backed away from his aunt's widower as he went after him, and he kept to Daemon's left, his literal blind spot. Incandescent with rage, Daemon followed Willam with his one eye, and he blocked Lamentation with Dark Sister as Willam tried to attack him. Young and old, fit and wounded, what both men had in common was their warrior's heart, and they clashed with great intensity. All that could be heard in Gulltown's square was the sound Valyrian Steel clashing.
Still standing, her heart beating faster, and having broken out in a cold sweat, Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen twisted the rings on her fingers so quickly that their friction built up heat on her skin.
"Seven above, please do not make me a widow again." Rhaenyra prayed silently. "Don't take Daemon from me and our children and grandchildren!"
"Just yield you old bastard!" shouted Willam as he fought Daemon. Yielding was the furthest thing from the king's mind. Tiredness, anger, pain, and frustration overwhelmed Daemon's being, and he wanted the Trial to end.
"Fuck the Code of Chivalry."
Once their swords were locked again, Daemon took his chance. Using his right foot, Daemon kicked Willam in the stomach, knocking him over. People gasped at this un-knightly behavior, but were nonetheless riveted by what was going on. Willam landed with a thud on the cold cobblestones, his right hand still tightly gripping Lamentation. Fiery pain erupted from Willam's right wrist, and he turned his face to see Dark Sister firmly planted through his wrist.
Looking up, Willam was greeted by the eerie, bloody sight of King Daemon's one-eyed face. Flesh weathered by the experiences and trials of fifty-three years were molded into a frightening countenance that silently screamed with rage. Even though his left eye had been cut in twain, the damaged organ "glared" at Willam alongside its healthier and intact right-side counterpart. Glaring angrily at Willam, Daemon slid Dark Sister through his wife's nephew's wrist, rendering his sword-hand half-severed from his arm. Unbothered by Willam's cries of pain, Daemon casually slid his sword back through what remained of his foe's wrist, completely severing his right hand.
A still shrieking Willam reached over with his left hand to grab his now handless right arm. Daemon quietly rose Dark Sister up over the writhing Willam, dangling the tip over the man's left eye.
"Willam."
The man foolishly looked up, only to receive karmic justice for blinding his king. Except where Willam had slashed Daemon's eye with his blade, the latter plunged Dark Sister through the Lord of Runestone's eye, down the eye socket, and piercing Willam's brain. Willam flinched before becoming deathly still. Although Rhea's nephew had died instantly, Daemon twisted Dark Sister before pulling it out of Willam's head, his body landing with a final thud. Ser Willam Royce, the Lord of Runestone, was gone.
Screaming could be heard coming from the stands where the late Willam and Gunthor's kin were. The Bronze Giant's eldest son, now the unofficial Lord of Runestone, was standing up in shock as he gaped at his second cousin/father-in-law's maimed and bloody corpse. William's daughters were weeping, and the two sisters embraced each other as they mourned. Daemon turned to look at the royal box where Rhaenyra and his stepsons were. The anxious queen gasped when she saw her uncle-husband's bloody face as a chill ran up her spine.
"Willam!" cried out Ser Eldric Arryn.
Daemon looked over towards Eldric and Joffrey. He began walking towards the two men without saying a word, his movements appearing to be more mechanical than natural.
"You bastard!" shouted an angry and upset Eldric. He attempted to charge Daemon when his cousin grabbed him.
"It's not worth it, Eldric." Joffrey hissed. "Think of your betrothed. Think of your father."
As much as Eldric wanted to run Daemon through, Joffrey's words had an effect on him, and his rationality returned. Attacking the Rogue Prince, even though he was wounded and looked like a member of the undead, would have been tantamount to suicide. This led to a grim realization for Eldric. To make this all end, he had to bend the knee. Yielding would be a slap in face for both the late Willam and Gunthor, who had given their lives to fight for Arnold's claim to the Eyrie. And speaking of Arnold, his son bending the knee would mean that the Mad Heir had lost his mind for a claim that would never be upheld.
But yielding would also mean that both father and son would live, and Eldric's betrothed would not have to lose another loved one. As Daemon approached, Eldric slowly bent the knee. Gasps rang out as the scene unfolded. King Daemon stopped before the prostrating Ser Eldric, and he pointed Dark Sister at him.
"Do you forfeit, Ser Arryn?" Daemon asked dryly in a tired voice.
"Yes, your grace."
"Do you forfeit your claim to the Eyrie?"
Eldric hesitated before answering. "Yes."
"Will you henceforth acknowledge Ser Joffrey Arryn, the Maiden of the Vale's chosen heir, as your new Lord Defender of the Vale?"
"Yes."
"Good."
All eyes were rapt on the scene. It was not until Eldric had agreed to acknowledge Joffrey as the official heir to the Vale when an uproarious applause and cheering broke out from the stands. Most of the cheering came from the smallkfolk, who were so glad that their homeland was going to be spared from a civil war. Some of the nobility joined in the cheering while the others remained stone-faced. Ser Gyles Coldwater's shoulders sank as Corwyn breathed a sigh of relief.
Ser Joffrey Arryn gently touched his cousin's shoulders, commanding him to rise. As Eldric rose, Daemon collapsed.
Bloody enough for you guys? It feels so good to write and publish again and I will try to start the next chapter. However, I am thinking of taking a break from RotDQ for a bit to focus on my other stories which I have neglected. I am actually planning on doing a rewrite for my BloodRayne stories! Anyway, thanks for reading and please review! :)