In the Darry encampment, after the lord of Darry ordered his soldiers to listen to accounts of battles against the Ironborn,
Suleiman's two guards, Lushen and Roslyn, sat by the campfire every day, sharing what they had seen of the Ironborn with the soldiers gathered around them.
Before they had been conscripted, they had been farmers, craftsmen, and townsfolk. They had never seen a battlefield with their own eyes.
Until then, they had been curious about war and the battlefield, even looking forward to it.
But now, listening to Lushen and Roslyn's stories, they suddenly realized that battlefields might not be as glorious as they had imagined. They were cold places, filled with death.
Lushen and Roslyn came from the same humble backgrounds as the soldiers. In plain language everyone could understand, they described the Ironborn's cruelty and fearlessness.
Lushen paused and lowered his voice.
"Those Ironborn are terrifying! They're a bunch of lunatics!"
"They're not afraid of dying. To them, death is just like going home!"
"I heard they believe that only those who drown or die in battle can go to the Drowned God's palace—a wonderful place beneath the water!"
"They believe that once they get there, they'll have endless food and drink every day. Whatever they want, those half-man, half-fish creatures will bring it to them!"
Roslyn nodded. "You can say that again!"
"And those people never carry money when they go out. If they see something they want, they just kill its owner and take it. That's what they call 'paying the iron price'!"
"And when they fight, nobody has to urge them on. They don't need orders or encouragement. They think killing and burning are what life is all about. They say it's the proper way for Ironborn to live!"
Lushen and Roslyn's accounts sent chills through the soldiers. They swallowed nervously, as if those fearsome Ironborn might leap out of the shadows at any moment.
But just as Lushen was embellishing a story about an Ironborn who had felled three Riverlands soldiers with a single axe,
a sharp voice, unmistakably hostile, cut through the silence.
"You fools!"
The soldiers turned toward the voice. A fat man in a knight's armor stood nearby, wearing an undisguised look of disgust.
It was Ser Joseth of Darry.
The lord's delay in advancing had already angered him. Seeing the two men here proclaiming the Ironborn's strength only made matters worse. He was also furious that the knight from Foulkeep had become a favored guest of the lord.
Joseth stepped forward and looked coldly at Lushen and Roslyn, his voice dripping with contempt.
"I hear your master told the lord that Darry's soldiers are no match for those pirates?"
Lushen and Roslyn were honest farmers through and through. Since arriving here, they had been careful not to cause trouble for Lord Suleiman.
Faced with Ser Joseth's rank and status, they instinctively wanted to back down.
"A little brat survives a battlefield through sheer luck, and now he thinks he can judge real warriors? Who does he think he is?"
Seeing them shrink back and try to leave, Joseth burst out laughing. His laughter was full of scorn. "The dog takes after its master. Your little lord's family earned its nobility by wiping the lord's arse. You know nothing about honor! Nothing about the spirit of nobility! Nothing about courage!"
Lushen and Roslyn went pale. They could tolerate being insulted themselves, but they would never accept anyone insulting Lord Suleiman.
Roslyn and Lushen shouted, "How dare you insult our lord!"
"Ha!" Joseth acted as if he had witnessed something astonishing.
His voice rose to a shrill, mocking squeal. "You dare talk back to a knight?"
"Marwyn! Tobias!" Joseth shouted to his two squires.
"Go! Teach our two battlefield heroes a lesson!"
"Show them their place!"
"Show them what a real fight looks like!"
Both squires wore full armor, protected from head to toe.
They advanced with cruel grins.
Lushen and Roslyn were horrified, but their loyalty to Lord Suleiman kept them from backing down this time.
They stood their ground, swinging their arms and fists and fighting back.
But every time their fists landed on the squires' armor, it was like punching solid stone!
The thick armor blocked their blows completely. Their fists couldn't get through the protection, let alone hurt the men inside.
Instead, the force of each impact left Lushen and Roslyn's fists bloodied.
As time passed, they grew weaker and weaker until they could no longer fight back.
Realizing that continuing was pointless, they had no choice but to stop attacking.
They tried to shield their heads and bodies with their arms, fending off the fists raining down on them.
Even after the two gave up resisting and could only take the beating, Joseth's squires showed no mercy.
The two squires wore cruel smiles. It was clear they weren't merely trying to subdue them!
Every blow was vicious and merciless.
They were trying to cripple the men, repeatedly smashing their fists and boots into Lushen and Roslyn's heads without any sign of stopping!
The commotion and screams alerted soldiers across the camp. Startled by the sudden violence, they rushed over to watch, but no one dared intervene.
After all, Joseth was the lord's knight.
But some soldiers felt warmly toward Suleiman and his two guards, and hurried to report what had happened to him.
Suleiman had been practicing his sword in a secluded part of the camp. When he heard the news, his face turned grim, and he hurried over.
Only when Joseth's two squires saw him arrive did they stop, smirking as they lowered their fists, ready to strike again.
"Enough!" Ser Ronald barked. His face was grim; he was clearly displeased with Joseth's behavior.
When Joseth's squires saw Ser Ronald arrive because of the disturbance, they immediately stepped back and stood behind Joseth.
Ser Ronald turned to Suleiman, his voice filled with apology and helplessness.
"Lord Suleiman, I'm terribly sorry. Joseth acted far too rashly."
"Darry apologizes to you. We'll compensate you."
Suleiman didn't even look at Ser Ronald. His gaze remained fixed on Joseth.
Then he hurried over to Lushen and Roslyn and crouched beside them to examine their injuries. Fortunately, they were tough men and hadn't suffered anything serious.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt such anger.
When they saw Suleiman, the two men were in such pain and so weak that they could barely move their lips. In voices barely above a whisper, they said, "We didn't let you down, Lord Suleiman."
Suleiman didn't reply. He gently patted their arms, then stood and looked over the soldiers gathering around them. Facing Joseth, he took a deep breath and raised his voice.
"I am Suleiman Foulkeep, a hereditary knight ennobled by the Seven Kingdoms!"
"And you are nothing but a knight whose title cannot be inherited!"
"You beat my guards without cause and insulted my family!"
"Such conduct tramples on noble honor and shows contempt for the laws of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Ser Joseth's expression darkened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.
"Therefore, this is now a dispute between nobles that cannot be settled peacefully!"
"Under the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, nobles may settle disputes through Trial by Combat!"
"Since you had your squires attack my guards while wearing armor, we'll make this completely fair!"
He pointed at Joseth and then at his squires. "You and those two armor-clad dogs of yours! Take off your turtle shells!"
Then he pointed at himself and at Lushen and Roslyn. "Me, and my guards, Lushen and Roslyn! Tomorrow, at this same time, right here in this open space!"
He spoke each word with deadly resolve. "Six men. A three-on-three Trial by Combat!"
Suleiman's gaze was calm and cold. In the calmest voice, he declared, "I sentence you to death!"
"Seven Gods as my witness!"
The surrounding soldiers fell silent, too stunned to speak by this sudden Trial by Combat to the death.
Ser Ronald's eyes were full of shock.
Things had actually reached this point, and it was the young knight Suleiman who had started it so forcefully and decisively. Three against three—he was so young. Why would he do something so foolish?
Even without armor, Joseth's skill at arms was enough to surpass that of many knights. His squires were also rigorously trained warriors.
They were even among the top thousand at tournaments across the kingdom. That was why Joseth wasn't afraid of offending Lord Raymun Darry.
He could easily find employment with another house.
And Suleiman was a sixteen-year-old young knight with two farmer guards.
Ser Ronald couldn't imagine how this young man had any chance of winning!
Joseth burst into laughter. He had been afraid Suleiman would use Westeros's noble hierarchy to pressure him, but instead, his opponent had chosen the very contest in which Joseth excelled.
Joseth pointed at Suleiman and his guards. "Good! Very good, Ser Suleiman of Foulkeep!"
He held his head high and stared down at Suleiman, answering loudly, "I am Ser Joseth Burke of Darry, known as the White Pig Knight! I accept your Trial by Combat!"
"Tomorrow, at this time, right here! Let everyone see how you and your farmers will sentence me to death in a Trial by Combat!"
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