Trial by Combat (2)

Ser Ronald's face was livid. He strode up to Suleiman, his voice tight with anger and disbelief.

After the incident at the camp, Raymun Darry and Ser Ronald had summoned Suleiman to the lord's tent.

"Ser Suleiman! Have you gone mad?"

He was practically shouting.

"Do you know who Joseth is?"

"He's a knight who ranks among the middle tier at the kingdom's Tourney!"

"Your two farmer guards and you? That's not bravery. It's stupidity. You're asking for death!"

Suleiman regarded him calmly, his gaze utterly unruffled.

"Ser Ronald, thank you for your concern."

Ser Ronald took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Listen, Suleiman."

"Darry Castle will offer you satisfactory compensation to protect your family's honor!"

"I guarantee you'll be satisfied!"

He glanced at Lord Raymun Darry, who stood nearby. The latter gave a slight nod, clearly backing Ser Ronald's proposal.

"Ser Suleiman, there's no need to let this become irreparable!"

Ser Ronald thought the young Ser of House Foulkeep had been blinded by anger over the humiliation. He clearly had no idea what foolish words he was saying or what stupid thing he was doing!

How could a boy who'd only survived the battlefield by luck stand against an experienced, highly skilled knight?

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Suleiman's lips.

"Ser Ronald, I appreciate your goodwill."

His voice remained calm, but carried an unquestionable resolve.

"But some things can't be solved by backing down. My guards were humiliated because of me, and my family was shamed because of me."

"I won't back down now. If I do, how will my family and I ever be able to show our faces again?"

"This isn't recklessness, Ser. The outcome is far from certain."

Suleiman turned to Ronald.

"And this is a necessary show of strength. Some beasts only understand when you speak to them in a way beasts can understand."

Ser Ronald looked into Suleiman's young yet unnervingly composed eyes. The anger in his heart gradually gave way to helplessness.

He couldn't understand why the boy was so stubborn, so ungrateful, so foolish.

Just as he hadn't understood when he'd heard that Suleiman's father had taken three noble kinsmen onto the battlefield. Was everyone in this Riverlands family really from the North? Were their heads full of ice?

"Foolish! Too young and too foolish!"

Ser Ronald finally shook his head and strode away, leaving with a parting remark and a heart full of disappointment and anger.

He felt that saying another word would be a waste of breath.

Lord Raymun Darry watched Suleiman in silence.

Then he slowly walked up to him.

Raymun's voice was low. "Have you made up your mind?"

Suleiman nodded. "I have, my lord."

Raymun Darry fell silent for a moment, then suddenly unbuckled the sword at his waist.

It was an exquisite longsword, unlike those of Westeros. Its blade was long and slender, and the hilt was inlaid with fine silver wire. It was clearly worth a fortune.

"This sword came from Myr. I'm giving it to you."

Raymun Darry held the sword out to Suleiman.

"Your sword is too worn."

Suleiman paused, looking at the precious sword before him, then at the rusty iron blade he'd brought from Foulkeep.

He didn't refuse out of politeness. He solemnly accepted the sword, keeping the kindness in his heart. "Thank you for your generosity, Lord Raymun."

Raymun Darry nodded.

"Your guards need a couple of decent weapons, too. I'll have someone bring them some."

He paused, gazing steadily into Suleiman's eyes.

"Before the Trial by Combat officially begins, you can withdraw at any time. I'll help you."

Suleiman tightened his grip on the Myr Sword. The cold feel of its hilt brought him back to reality.

He raised his head and smiled at Raymun Darry—a confident smile that surprised the lord.

"I'll remember your kindness in giving me this sword, my lord."

With that, he bowed slightly, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

Raymun Darry watched Suleiman's departing figure, his expression complicated. For a long while, he remained silent.

He sensed that the young Ser seemed very confident.

Suleiman went to the army's medical tent.

There he found Lushen and Roslyn supporting each other.

Their wounds were smeared with blood, but their eyes were unusually bright. There was something to be said for being tough-skinned: they recovered quickly.

"Lord Suleiman!" Lushen grinned, but the movement pulled at the wound on his lip. He sucked in a breath, baring his teeth in pain.

"Lord Suleiman, I'm sorry. We've caused you trouble!" Roslyn kept his head lowered, his voice full of remorse.

Suleiman stepped forward to examine their injuries. Most were superficial, though bruises and swelling were inevitable.

He'd thought they would be afraid of the life-or-death duel ahead. After all, their opponents were a knight and his squire.

And they were only farmers.

"Are you afraid?" Suleiman asked them.

"Not afraid!" Lushen and Roslyn jerked their heads up and answered almost in unison, their voices firm and decisive.

Lushen touched his injured cheek and spoke through a choked voice. "Lord Suleiman, it's just... we're so useless. They insulted you and your family, but we couldn't beat them. We let you down!"

His voice caught, and his eyes reddened.

Roslyn nodded hard. "That's right, Lord Suleiman! We're not afraid to die. We're just afraid of letting you down!"

Warmth filled Suleiman's heart. He patted them on the shoulders.

"Remember this! None of this is your fault!"

His voice was calm but forceful.

"Sometimes the world is just like that. Trouble comes looking for you not because you did something wrong, but because someone thinks you're an easy target!"

Suleiman stood and looked toward the tent where Ser Joseth was staying. His gaze gradually turned cold.

He thought back to his life before he'd crossed over.

He had no family or relatives, no one he could rely on for support.

He'd entered the working world early, struggling through life alone and experiencing its many ups and downs.

Over the years, he'd learned a lot.

"Everyone told me that suffering a loss was a blessing, but I've never seen anyone enjoy that blessing."

Suleiman's voice wasn't loud, but Lushen and Roslyn heard him clearly.

"I used to think that treating people kindly and dealing with them sincerely would earn me the same in return."

"Later, I realized that some people take your kindness for granted, and when you give ground, they think you're weak and easy to bully!"

"If you're gentle and friendly to everyone, some people will think they can take whatever they want from you!"

"Remember! We won't use the swords in our hands to hurt others, but neither will we let others hurt us with theirs!"

Suleiman turned back to Lushen and Roslyn, his gaze firm.

"Today, Joseth and his squire dared to beat you and insult my family because they think we're soft targets they can push around."

"If we put up with it, more people will come to bully us tomorrow. They'll take our food, steal our land, and even take our lives!"

"So when someone comes knocking to pick a fight, the only answer is to hit back harder!"

"Hit them hard! Make them afraid! Make them fear us the moment they see us! Make them tremble at the sight of us! Make them take a detour whenever they see us from now on!"

Lushen and Roslyn listened in a daze. Suleiman's words struck their simple minds like a hammer, cracking something open.

They'd never heard such ideas before. Their parents had always taught them not to resist the nobles, because they were merely livestock raised on their lord's land.

The noble lords always told them that, because of their low station, they had to obey and submit.

The septons of the Seven always told them their souls were born filthy, and that they had come into this world to endure every hardship and atone for their sins.

But Lord Suleiman's words filled them with an inexplicable sense of relief.

Yes—why should they be bullied? Why should they have to swallow their anger and endure it?

Lushen felt his swollen head, then rubbed the back of it, and gave a simple, honest laugh.

He choked out, "My lord, I... I think I understand a little."

Roslyn grinned, revealing a guileless smile. "I think the lord is right! We've lived twenty years longer than the lord, but it's as if we've wasted them all!"

Suleiman looked at their relieved smiles.

He smiled, too.

"So tomorrow, we're not going to our deaths."

His voice brimmed with strength.

"We're going to show everyone that no one should mess with House Foulkeep!"