Apart from Jon and Ser Donnel, who seemed inexperienced, the other knights were all fighters of renown: Bronze Yohn, Ser Barristan Selmy, Dacey, and the Blackfish. Anguy held his longbow, aiming at the knights in the courtyard. Then there was the Valyrian steel, forged and tempered countless times, its black ripples like wisps of smoke. Though thin, Valyrian steel was deadly.
"If you want to live, you need to show your king more respect and lower your voice," Brynden the Blackfish reminded him.
"Lord Blackfish, I remember you as a man who lived on honor. This is hardly your way, especially conspiring with outsiders against your niece, Lord Jon's widowed wife, Lady Lysa." Nestor forced a smile. Anyone would fear the sharpness of Valyrian steel.
Nestor saw the tall warrior standing head and shoulders above the crowd, the scent of blood and steel seemingly following him like a shadow. Gendry wore Black Scale Plate Armor, its black scales matching his short black hair and making his eyes look even bluer. Ser Nestor saw the situation reverse in an instant. The twenty-odd soldiers under his command were no match for them.
"Father," Ser Albar muttered. Father and son had both been restrained, like pitiful little chicks.
"I have around three hundred men. If you intend to attack the Gates of the Moon, I fear these few men of yours will not be enough," Nestor said stubbornly.
"They won't be, but I doubt the blades of your few dozen men are sharper than those of the Kingslayer and the Lannisters. It would simply mean killing you one by one," Gendry said. "Valyrian steel is incredibly sharp, yet lighter than ordinary metal. Killing my way through you one at a time would hardly be strenuous."
Nestor's expression grew strained. He had long known