Trial by Combat

Robert turned toward the voice. A tall, powerfully built young man with a spirited bearing calmly bowed to him.

"A true son of the North!"

Robert praised him inwardly, but with bleary, drunken eyes, he said, "You're Garon?"

"I am. Garon Glover, Lord of Deepwood Motte, awaits your command!"

As he answered with composure, Garon watched the reactions of those around him.

Ned, standing beside Robert, looked worried. Across two long tables, Sansa saw Garon step forward and was delighted at first, then grew anxious.

Catelyn wore a smile, as if she thought the outcome was already settled. Theon looked even more brazen, ignoring Robb's anger beside him.

Joffrey looked at Garon with contempt, his eyes full of scorn.

Cersei, seated on the dais, was the one who surprised him. As she looked at Garon, calm and unbowed, a glint of admiration flashed in her eyes.

Jaime noticed, and felt a faint twinge of jealousy.

"I remember the lord of Deepwood Motte being Galbart."

"How is it you?"

Robert did not dismiss Garon out of hand. Instead, he looked at him in confusion.

Garon glanced toward the hall entrance again. Seeing that Roger had disappeared, he finally began to answer.

"Your Grace, my father answered the summons of the king and Lord Ned nine years ago, leading troops to put down the rebel Balon Greyjoy!"

His eyes shifted to Theon, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and his voice turned grave.

"When he helped Your Grace breach Pyke Castle, he was grievously wounded."

"He was bedridden for years, and half a year ago, he went to join the Old Gods."

Garon's sorrowful words stirred memories in many of the lords present. Most of them had fought in the Iron Islands campaign nine years ago.

Even Robert could not help recalling those days.

The war had been perilous. The Greyjoys had used their home-field advantage to hold out against the Iron Throne. Had the many northern lords not charged at the cost of their lives, Balon would not have surrendered so soon.

Thinking of this, Robert set down his wine cup and sighed.

"I remember Galbart's courage and loyalty as clearly as if it were yesterday."

"If he hadn't led his men in holding off Maron's counterattack, we wouldn't have taken Pyke Castle so easily."

"I never thought such a brave man would have died of illness. It's a real shame."

At his words, the lords and knights who had also fought in the Iron Islands campaign felt a little more kindly toward Garon.

The tense atmosphere in the hall eased as well.

"Serving Your Grace and Lord Ned is simply a vassal's duty."

Garon noted the shift in the room and continued, calm and unbowed. "Before my father died, he worried about my marriage, so he took the liberty of asking Lord Ned for his daughter's hand."

"Lord Ned, mindful of his vassal, summoned me to Winterfell three days ago to discuss the marriage agreement."

"Though the agreement hadn't been settled at the time, the intention was for Your Grace and the Old Gods to witness it."

In just a few words, Garon laid out the whole story behind his marriage agreement with Sansa.

Ned spoke up to confirm it, hoping to persuade Robert to take back his declaration.

But Ned's words gave Robert a splitting headache.

If it had been just him and Ned there, he might have pretended nothing had happened. But with so many people watching, taking back what he'd just said would mean letting his vassals trample the king's dignity.

Robert would never accept that.

Jaime was still fanning the flames.

"In the end, you and Stark never made a marriage agreement, Glover. You expect the king to back down for you?"

"You've got quite some nerve!"

Joffrey had never liked Garon. Now he shouted, "A coward who hides in the Wolfswood dares to defy the king?"

"Dog! Dog!"

"Go arrest him!"

Sandor Clegane, the Hound, pushed through the crowd. He seemed intent on following Joffrey's order and seizing Garon.

Ned frowned and glanced at Jory. Jory understood at once and stepped forward to block the Hound.

Theon finally reacted. When Garon had brought up the Iron Islands campaign and the others had voiced their agreement, Theon had grown uneasy.

But Jaime and Joffrey's words immediately made him realize that Garon had become the target of both Baratheon and Lannister.

So Theon seized the chance to kick him while he was down. "That's right. You never made a proper marriage agreement, so Sansa is still free."

"Prince Joffrey is still entitled to betroth himself to Sansa. The gods will surely bless their union."

But instead of winning Joffrey's favor, his words earned the contempt of everyone else present.

Joffrey glared coldly at Theon and cursed, "Shut up! Who gave a squid like you the right to speak here?"

Robb rose as well, warning him in an icy voice, "Theon, I said be quiet!"

Theon trembled all over and instinctively looked to Catelyn, only to see her glaring at him with an equally furious expression.

Only then did he realize he had angered everyone. For a moment, he didn't dare say another word.

Garon shook his head inwardly and sneered. Idiot!

Theon didn't even know what kind of person Joffrey was, yet he'd dared to flatter him so recklessly.

Joffrey was an incredibly arrogant man.

By saying Joffrey was entitled to Sansa, Theon was implying that a prince of his standing still had to defer to Ned.

How could Joffrey, who fancied himself the next ruler of the Iron Throne, accept that?

Still, Theon's words have given me an opening!

Garon had a sudden inspiration and saw a way to turn the situation around.

He stepped forward and stopped beside the long table, breaking the silence.

"Ser Jaime is right. Who is Glover to make the king yield?"

Jaime sneered. "So you're giving up?"

Sansa's face fell. She lowered her head, not daring to look at Garon again.

But Garon's next words rekindled her hopes.

Garon shook his head. "Of course I won't give up!"

If he gave up, House Glover would become a laughingstock throughout the North. It might even tarnish House Stark's honor.

How could Garon remain in the North after that?

"Then what do you mean?"

Jaime looked puzzled. For a moment, he couldn't figure out what Garon was up to.

Garon's lips curved upward. His crimson eyes blazed, and his voice rang out with fierce conviction.

"Since Prince Joffrey and I both wish to marry Lady Sansa..."

"Since the king and Lord Ned disagree and cannot reach a decision..."

"Then let the gods decide Lady Sansa's marriage!"

Ignoring the astonished faces around him, he spoke with such passion that his voice rang through the great hall of Winterfell.

"Your Grace!" Garon first turned his gaze to Robert, then fixed it sharply on Ned. "My lord!"

Once both men's stern, equally shocked eyes were firmly upon him, Garon's face turned fierce. He made his request in a ringing voice.

"I demand a Trial by Combat!"

Boom—

The hall erupted into chaos. Everyone stared at Garon in disbelief.