"White Knights, step forward," Gendry declared, his voice like steel.
"I grant each man of the Kingsguard a fine sword, all forged by my own hands."
A stir ran through the gathering. A sword forged by the king himself was considered an honor.
Everyone in the Known World knew that Gendry had once been a smith's apprentice and a mercenary's apprentice, but no one dared mention it before the king now.
"Smith, warrior, knight, Dragon King." Gendry calling himself a smith meant something very different from someone else calling him one.
"Those hands of yours were made for swinging a hammer." Gendry still remembered Tobho Mott's assessment of him back then.
When Tobho had told Gendry it was time to forge his first longsword, Gendry had left the smithy. Now there was no word of Tobho either.
Shoeing horses, mending mail, hammering plate armor flat-these were all Gendry's old trade. He could forge swords, too, and daggers and decent helmets posed no difficulty.
Tobho never taught his apprentices the essential techniques for working Valyrian steel or mixing lacquer into armor, but Gendry had mastered all the other techniques.
"But none of that is a problem. The Qohorik won't be stingy with their knowledge of glazing and lacquering armor."
Gendry brought out the swords he had forged. Their blades were made of fine steel and gleamed silver.
The scabbards were gilded cherrywood wrapped in yellow leather, embroidered with the letters "Gendry I."
The pommels were round, like those of castle-forged swords, each set with a red gemstone.
The keen blades were double-edged, their black grips wrapped in leather, with a stag and a dragon on either side of each hilt.
Gendry raised a sword, then gently laid it on a White Knight's shoulder, beginning with them one by one.
"I grant