Exiled Royalist Knight

In Braavos, Viserys Targaryen received good news from the courtesan while waiting in a cool vestibule.

The Braavosi courtesan, "Female Swordswoman," had brought him a genuine Westerosi knight in plate armor.

He was rather old, around forty, his hair already gray, yet his body remained strong.

The knight wore no silk or cotton garments, only leather. His blue-and-white surcoat bore two crossed black warhammers within a white saltire.

Yet both the leather and surcoat showed signs of wear. The knight was not living comfortably.

"Your Majesty, Princesses." The middle-aged knight dropped to one knee and apologized for his lateness.

"I did not know you were in Braavos. Otherwise, I should have served the true dragons."

The middle-aged knight rubbed his eyes. "I once thought I would never see the true dragons again. I thought the courtesan was deceiving me."

It was only natural that the knight had not known. The royalists had long scattered like monkeys from a fallen tree; no one cared about Viserys and his tiny handful of followers.

Besides, they themselves had fled Dragonstone at the risk of their lives and escaped to Braavos.

"House Rykker of Duskendale." Viserys recognized the warhammer emblem.

House Rykker's sigil was two crossed black warhammers within a white saltire on a blue field.

After the Defiance of Duskendale, House Darklyn had been exterminated, and House Rykker took over Duskendale, gaining a tremendous bargain. They had been profoundly grateful to the Mad King.

From then on, House Rykker had remained loyal royalists.

During the War of the Usurper, Ser Jeremy Rykker chose to support the king. Later, when King's Landing fell, he surrendered to House Lannister's forces.

Given the choice between death and going to the Wall to join the Night's Watch, he chose the latter.

"It is House Rykker, though I am only a distant Rykker. Roland Rykker. But I am still a knight who was once anointed with holy oils and took the vows."

"Get up." Viserys immediately helped Ser Roland to his feet. Meeting someone from home in this foreign land was truly difficult.

Viserys was extremely excited to see Ser Roland.

There truly were loyal men beyond the Narrow Sea.

"Your Majesty Viserys, I have found the man you wanted." Female Swordswoman smiled. "But I must apologize. I have other matters to attend to. I need to check on my flower boat."

Female Swordswoman was quite perceptive and had no intention of involving herself in Viserys's affairs.

Viserys's great cause of restoring his kingdom had nothing to do with her as a courtesan. She was only responsible for bringing people in and earning her profit.

That was the role of a broker and intermediary. Female Swordswoman had put in considerable effort.

"I will surely repay this kindness generously someday." Viserys spoke with great gratitude as he warmly saw the courtesan off.

"How did you escape to Braavos, Ser Roland?" Viserys asked.

Roland Rykker looked at Viserys. "After our defeat at the Battle of the Trident, I was fortunate enough to survive. At the time, the Westerlands army was the royal family's last hope. But I remembered how both the royal family and House Rykker had offended the Lannisters, as well as the rumors about Tywin. I did not dare return to King's Landing and instead crossed the sea to flee. I heard that after King's Landing was sacked by the Lannisters, my relatives were forced by Tywin to don black in the end."

"How did House Rykker anger Tywin?" Viserys asked curiously.

"That is an old matter. At a feast the king held for Cersei Lannister's first appearance at court, our lord, Lord Rykker, made a joke about Tywin Lannister's 'ability to produce gold.' Tywin glared at Lord Rykker with such a cold gaze that our lord wisely gave up and walked away."

"Tywin had already earned the reputation of a butcher and a hard man in his youth, so I chose not to return to King's Landing. But many of my friends died there," Roland said painfully.

"So there were details like that." Viserys had learned some of the inside story.

Viserys also knew that Tywin and the Mad King had fallen out, but he certainly did not know as much as someone who had witnessed it. He had only been a child then.

Back then, Aerys, Tywin, and Steffon Baratheon had been close friends.

Later, the Mad King grew increasingly jealous of Tywin's talent and harmonious family, and constantly sought ways to humiliate him.

A madman was still a madman. He lashed out at his own close friend, the very picture of someone who only dared act tough at home.

With the king taking such a stance, many Crownlands nobles and flatterers around him followed the wind.

Those people were thoroughly petty. Some even catered to the king by suggesting that Viserys replace Rhaegar as heir, which was truly absurd.

Right or wrong aside, Viserys had only been a child of a few years old then.

"You fulfilled a knight's duty." Viserys looked at the old knight and did not reproach Ser Roland.

When a great building was about to collapse, there was no need to blame others.

During the Battle of the Trident, the royalist army's preparations had been rushed, and Rhaegar had gone into battle in haste.

Though they numbered forty thousand, only one-tenth were knights. Most of the rest were archers, freeriders, and infantry.

Robert's army, though smaller, was more experienced.

So once Rhaegar died, the leaderless royal army collapsed completely and scattered in all directions. Some fled back to King's Landing, while others simply slipped away.

In such chaos, it was only natural for a few knights to escape.

Still, Ser Roland had shown remarkable foresight.

"I heard of the bloody massacres that later occurred in King's Landing. I am sorry. Many people went to beg the Usurper and Tywin for forgiveness, but I swore that I would have revenge," Ser Roland said.

Viserys looked at Ser Roland's figure. The defeat in the War of the Usurper still haunted him.

"You once fought beside my father," Rhaenys said.

"I am sorry. I was a deserter." Ser Roland spoke in deep shame, the wrinkles on his face like slashes from blades. "Once Prince Rhaegar died, I fled with the collapsing unit."

"It is all in the past. You are still a hero in my heart," Rhaenys comforted him.

"I am a failed man, Your Majesty. From a failed war. Many of my companions became ghosts, while others were sent to the Wall." Roland spoke, then knelt again. "If you do not find me unworthy, please allow me to serve you, Your Majesty. No one can escape death, but if I can see the true dragon's banners flying above the Red Keep, see the Usurper and Tywin destroyed, then I will die without regret."

"Though you failed, you are also the first knight to swear loyalty to me." Viserys placed Silver Flash upon Ser Roland's shoulder and bade him rise.

Once Ser Roland stood, he had become a member of this team of vengeance.

"And how did you live during your exile?" Rhaenys asked Roland curiously.

"At first, I still had some savings. Later, I could only work as a mercenary. I worked everywhere. So long as I was paid, I fought Dothraki, Lyseni, and Myrmen alike. I only came to Braavos recently. The Golden Company invited me before, but I did not want to join the Black Dragon's ranks." After rising, Ser Roland had regained some of his old confidence, and a glimmer of hope shone in his eyes.

Viserys heard the rootlessness in Ser Roland's tone. Westeros was the homeland he could not bear to return to.

Thinking it over, Viserys realized Roland had essentially filled the niche Big Bear would occupy later: driven from his homeland, skilled with bow and horse, capable of speaking foreign tongues, and familiar with the customs of other peoples.

Unlike Big Bear, who was a turncoat and still obsessed over the North and knightly honor, Ser Roland was a royalist through and through.

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