Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

"I apologize for my skepticism," said Garlan Tyrell as he approached Lynd and offered a careful bow. "Lord Lynd, your swordsmanship is truly as magnificent as the rumors suggest. I hope that, in the future, your skills will find their rightful place in the service of House Tyrell."

With that, Garlan instructed an attendant to prepare accommodations for Lynd and Joel, as well as to arrange for clothing and other necessities.

Lynd was taken aback by Garlan Tyrell's words. It was clear that Garlan intended to bring him under the direct patronage of House Tyrell. This development surprised Lynd, as he had assumed his allegiance was tied to House Crane. After all, Joel had recommended him to Vortimer, and both Joel and Vortimer, along with his hometown of White Holdfast, were connected to House Crane. Though he was a freeman and a hunter, once he became Vortimer's squire, he had effectively become Lynd of House Crane.

Garlan's words, however, strongly suggested otherwise. They implied that House Tyrell sought to claim him, offering an opportunity far beyond what House Crane could provide. Vortimer Crane, while a celebrated Master of Swordsmanship and Highgarden's Master-at-Arms, belonged to a diminished branch of House Crane. A family feud had reduced their fortunes, leaving Vortimer with a manor and some remaining assets in Highgarden, granted by House Tyrell. His status was that of a court noble, far from the influence and resources of a lord's house. For Lynd, the highest attainable rank under Vortimer's tutelage would likely be that of a knight.

House Tyrell, by contrast, held a vastly superior position. Despite backing the wrong side during Robert's Rebellion, their punishment had been relatively light. Robert Baratheon's respect for the prowess of Randyll Tarly, a Tyrell bannerlord who had once posed a serious challenge in battle, ensured their continued prominence. Furthermore, the Tyrells had made concerted efforts to improve their relationship with the Iron Throne, organizing tournaments and attending celebrations, which gradually bore fruit.

With external pressures minimal, House Tyrell had turned its attention to consolidating power within the Reach, dealing with noble families such as the Fossoways, Florents, and Rowans. Opportunities for ambitious individuals like Lynd were abundant under their banner.

Despite the potential upheaval, Lynd kept his composure. Sheathing his sword, he followed the servants alongside Joel, massaging his arms to ease the soreness from the duel. Though the match had lasted little more than a minute, it had been physically grueling. His fatigue had slowed him in the final moments, a clear indication of his physical limitations. While Vortimer had declared it a draw, Lynd knew he had lost.

He had long been aware of his stamina issues and had focused on strengthening his constitution during his time in White Holdfast. Although his efforts had yielded progress, high-intensity battles still drained him quickly. Building endurance would take time, and he resolved to address this persistent weakness.

Lost in thought, Lynd barely noticed when they arrived at a small, secluded building on the estate. The attendants showed them to two rooms on the second floor and inquired if they needed anything before leaving. Shortly afterward, maids escorted them to a downstairs bathhouse.

Joel, usually boisterous, seemed unusually reserved in the presence of the maids. Whether it was Lynd's proximity, his desire to maintain decorum, or simple embarrassment, he refrained from any improper behavior. Lynd, meanwhile, dismissed the maids entirely and bathed in his usual solitary manner.

Afterward, Joel glanced at Lynd, now dressed in a fresh set of clothes, and couldn't resist a jab. "Still a virgin, aren't you? If you get the chance, you should give it a try. In this world, wine and women are the only true pleasures."

"Wine and women?" Lynd shot him a disapproving look. "You mean like when you got drunk on mead and were knocked out by some street thug? Or when you let women grope you and didn't even react?"

"You brat!" Joel snapped, but he let the matter drop. Back in his room, he found a feast waiting—House Tyrell's hospitality was as grand as expected, with Arbor wine and an array of fine dishes. Unable to resist, Joel grabbed his food and wine and headed to Lynd's room.

Upon entering, he was puzzled to find Lynd's table empty. "Didn't they bring you anything?"

"I don't drink, remember?" Lynd replied. "As for food, I already ate at the tavern."

Joel shrugged and didn't press him. He poured himself a glass, took a swig, and settled into a reflective mood.

After Joel had taken his second drink, Lynd asked suspiciously, "Did you come here just to show me how to drink?"

Joel remained silent for a moment, then spoke as if to himself. "It's really amazing."

Lynd was momentarily confused. At first, he thought Joel was referring to him, but he quickly realized his mistake. Joel was speaking about someone else.

"House Tyrell is indeed extraordinary, deserving of the title Warden of the South," Joel remarked sincerely. "Even a ten-year-old here can execute tactics silently, something you'd never see in other houses. It's no wonder House Tyrell has managed to suppress the larger and smaller nobles of the Reach for so many years."

"Are you worried about the future of House Crane?" Lynd asked.

Joel gave him a blank look. "What do I care about House Crane's future? That's a concern for their lords. And even if something happens to the branch controlling Red Lake Castle, another branch will survive. House Crane won't disappear."

"Then what are you so upset about?" Lynd asked, puzzled.

Joel stared at Lynd for a long moment but said nothing. After taking a few more sips of wine, his mood seemed to shift. He grew more talkative, like an older relative imparting advice. He reminded Lynd of things to watch out for once he joined House Tyrell, speaking with a seriousness that felt uncharacteristic. Finally, he urged Lynd to rest, stood up, and returned to his room. Before long, the sound of his snoring echoed down the hall.

Joel's behavior left Lynd dazed. He couldn't understand the sudden sentimentality or the shift in attitude, which contrasted sharply with how they had interacted during their journey from Goldengrove Castle.

As Lynd sat in silence, a voice suddenly came from the doorway. "He sees you as his former squire. The resemblance in personality and age is striking, with the exception of swordsmanship. Back then, he sent his squire to Lord Barristan in the same way, but the boy made a mistake in front of the Mad King and was tortured to death."

Lynd's expression changed. He turned toward the door and saw an elderly man standing there, dressed in servant's attire. His appearance was unremarkable, ordinary even, but the man's presence was anything but.

From the old man's words, it was clear he had been listening for some time. Yet neither Lynd nor Joel had noticed anyone eavesdropping. This realization made Lynd deeply wary.

That Joel hadn't noticed the man's presence was understandable, but Lynd found it troubling that he hadn't detected him either. Since his rebirth, his senses had been extraordinarily heightened, capable of picking up sounds within a 20-to-30-meter radius—footsteps, voices, even breathing. Yet the old man had managed to stand undetected in the doorway. Even now, though Lynd could see him clearly, he heard no sound of breathing, as if the man were an illusion.

Before Lynd could say more, the old man stepped slightly out of the shadows and addressed him. "You needn't worry. I am but a man who has lost his name and identity. I came here to see an old friend from long ago. I was planning to leave without a trace, but your swordsmanship piqued my interest, so I decided to appear."

"Your friend is Joel?" Lynd asked, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. Despite the old man's calm demeanor, Lynd's guard remained up as he followed up with a probing question.

"He was just an accident, just like you." The old man seemed unfazed by Lynd's readiness to draw his sword. He shook his head slightly in response to Lynd's question, as if unwilling to delve further. After giving a brief answer, he turned the conversation back to Lynd. "Was the teacher who taught you swordsmanship a Master Water Dancer?"

"No," Lynd replied, shaking his head.

"No?" The old man's expression grew puzzled. "Though your swordsmanship is distinct from a Water Dancer's style, your movements resemble their steps—fluid and deliberate. It seems like an adaptation of Water Dancer techniques, tailored specifically for two-sword combat. On the continent of Essos, there are very few capable of refining Water Dancer movements in such a way. On Westeros, there is only one." He regarded Lynd intently and asked again, "Are you certain your Swordsmanship teacher wasn't a Master Water Dancer?"

"I'm absolutely certain," Lynd said firmly. Then, meeting the old man's gaze, he added meaningfully, "Valar Morghulis. Valar Dohaeris. Is that Master Water Dancer your target? Faceless Men Master from Braavos?"

The old man's eyes widened in surprise. He neither confirmed nor denied the question but asked instead, "If I remember correctly, Lord Lynd is an ordinary hunter who has never left The Reach, let alone traveled to Essos. How do you know about the Faceless Men of Braavos?"

Lynd didn't answer. Instead, he drew his dual swords and said, "I've heard much of the legendary Faceless Men's swordsmanship. Let's spar. If you win, I'll tell you where I learned this."

The old man shook his head. "If you know about the Faceless Men, you should also know this: we kill only those marked by the Many-Faced God, and you are not one of them."

Before the conversation could continue, footsteps and voices echoed from outside the attic, likely servants coming to clean the downstairs bathhouse. Hearing this, the old man lost interest in the exchange. He bowed slightly to Lynd before retreating into the shadows.

Lynd, unwilling to let him go so easily, pursued him. But by the time he reached the doorway, the old man was already gone. With his enhanced eyesight, Lynd spotted a fleeting figure in the trees beyond the attic. The figure vaulted to a nearby wall, climbed over it, and disappeared into the night.

Realizing the old man was gone, Lynd returned to his room, closed the door, and lay down on the bed. Instead of sheathing his dual swords, he kept them within arm's reach.

The encounter left Lynd deeply shaken. Though unharmed, it shattered any pride he had felt after his duel with Vortimer Crane. It was a sobering reminder of the hidden dangers and powerful, mysterious forces in the world. He realized that one misstep could lead to his death.

Lynd spent the rest of the night in a half-asleep, half-awake state, keeping his vigilance heightened until dawn. When he heard Joel stirring in the next room, he immediately went to him and recounted the events of the night.

Joel was initially stunned. But as Lynd spoke, a dark realization seemed to dawn on him, and his expression turned grim. He advised Lynd not to worry about the Faceless Men, then said no more on the matter.

Later, however, Joel sought out Vortimer Crane in private. The two spoke at length, their conversation filled with hushed, urgent tones.

Following this, Garlan Tyrell's entourage noticeably doubled in size. Vortimer Crane stayed unusually close to Garlan, acting as a constant shadow, as though guarding him against an unseen threat.