The uproar from the previous bout had yet to die down when the royal herald's ringing voice rose once more.
It drew everyone's attention away from the bedraggled Sandor Clegane and back to the stars of this spectacle.
The Knight of Flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell!
The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane!
The moment the words rang out, the entire Tournament Grounds erupted!
This was a contest between beauty and the beast.
The most handsome, most beloved knight in all the Seven Kingdoms, against its most brutal, most terrifying monster.
Loras Tyrell's entrance was as outrageously showy as ever.
He rode a snow-white horse, his silver plate armor engraved with golden roses that gleamed in the sunlight.
He looked like a hero who had stepped straight out of a song.
He gracefully blew kisses to the noblewomen and young ladies in the stands, drawing waves of screams loud enough to raise the roof.
And his opponent was Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.
He silently rode his black stallion, a full size larger than an ordinary warhorse, to the other end of the lists.
He had not even changed out of the armor stained red with Ser Hugh Hammer's blood. Beneath the blazing sun, that cold steel gave off a sickening reek of blood.
Up in the stands, Littlefinger had regained his composure.
He took a fresh cup of wine and looked at the restless white mare in the arena, then at the ill-tempered, uncastrated stallion beneath the Mountain.
A smile of certain victory curled his lips.
That crow Lynn had used up all his luck.
From now on, every opponent he faced would be among the finest knights in the Seven Kingdoms!
Any one of them could easily knock Lynn flat.
And now, he would truly begin raking in his fortune!
"Begin!"
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