"By rights, he should already be dead. I have never seen anyone with such a strong will to live," the old knight answered. "I suspect he held on to see you. Now that he has, his wish is fulfilled." The king's life was like the last embers in the wind.
"My brother was always strong," Lord Renly said. "He killed that pig. Even with his entrails spilling out of his belly, he still slaughtered the boar." His voice was full of wonder.
"As long as an enemy was still standing, Robert would never leave the battlefield," Eddard told him.
Eddard told them, "No one is to disturb his rest without my consent."
"As you command, my lord." Ser Barristan Selmy looked older than his years. "I failed in my sacred duty."
The two of them still had much to discuss, but with Lord Renly present, they could not speak openly.
"Even the most loyal and valiant knight cannot keep a king from harming himself," Eddard said. "Robert loved hunting boar. I must have seen him kill a thousand of them." He always stood his ground without flinching, his spear in his hands, often cursing loudly as the boar charged. He waited until the very last moment, until the boar was almost upon him, before killing it with a single clean, precise thrust. "Who could have known this pig would kill him?"
"You are too kind, Lord Eddard." Barristan looked at him.
"The king himself said as much. He said the wine was to blame."
The white-haired knight nodded weakly. "His Grace could barely stay in the saddle when we drove the boar from its lair, but he still ordered us to stand aside."
"What happened with the wine?" Eddard asked.
"The king drank from the wineskins he carried," Ser Barristan