Davion sat in his seat, taking it all in and silently grumbling:
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Seeing how composed and restrained Tywin looked just now, I thought he really was keeping a low profile!
Who would have thought he would have Jaime carry the Lannister banner right alongside the king's royal standard!
He's openly challenging royal authority and showing off Lannister power!
It also shows just how incompetent Robert is!
All he does is eat, drink, and amuse himself, indulging in booze and lust, putting affairs of state out of his mind while he watches House Lannister grow more powerful by the day!
The spectators below had no such complicated thoughts. Most were simply enjoying the spectacle and took it for granted that Jaime would carry his own house's banner.
As the knights of the various houses entered in turn, carrying their family banners, the crowd erupted with enthusiasm once more.
Cheers and shouts rose in waves as people pointed at the banners on the field, guessing which houses the knights belonged to.
Incidentally, although every noble house in this world had its own coat of arms, there were no particularly strict rules of heraldry.
The banners were simple and easily understood, so even ordinary commoners could roughly recognize some of the more familiar noble banners.
Still, the banners on the field came in all sorts of varieties, bearing everything from hyenas and wild boars to unusual flowers and plants and all kinds of birds. Recognizing them all was no easy task.
Fortunately, Davion had Tyrion, a "superbrain," beside him. There was scarcely anything he did not know about the houses of the Seven Kingdoms.
Tyrion raised his short little arm, pointed at the banners on the field, and explained:
"Look, that handsome young man behind Barristan is Loras Tyrell of House Tyrell of Highgarden, known as the Knight of Flowers!"
"He's not just good-looking. I hear he's extremely skilled at arms, too. He's one of the favorites to win this Hand's Tourney."
He covered his mouth and whispered, "I hear he's Renly's lover, too!"
Davion followed his pointing finger and indeed saw a handsome young knight in pale green armor, carrying House Tyrell's rose banner. He sat tall and straight with a gentle smile, drawing repeated glances from many of the young women below.
A look of surprise appeared on Davion's face.
He had long known about those two. What surprised him was that Tyrion would share something so private with him.
Tyrion did not notice Davion's expression. He pointed at another knight, an exceptionally tall and burly man, and his tone instantly turned disgusted as he sneered:
"That man right behind Jaime, the one who looks like a mountain, is Gregor Clegane, known as the Mountain."
"See the three dogs on his banner?"
"His father kept hunting hounds for House Lannister. Now the Mountain and his younger brother have become our house's most loyal hounds, too!"
Davion looked at the burly knight. He wore black armor, with a savage face and fierce eyes, and exuded a viciousness that made the heart tremble.
The other nobles kept their distance from him. Only one man followed at his side, wearing a helmet shaped like a dog's head.
That was his younger brother, Sandor Clegane, the Hound.
Davion had long heard of the Mountain's brutality. Seeing him in person today, he found that the reputation was well deserved.
Tyrion then pointed at a banner bearing a silver trout on a field of red and blue stripes.
He was just about to introduce it when Davion spoke first:
"I know this one. House Tully of Riverrun, right?"
Tyrion paused, then laughed:
"Oh, I forgot. You're a noble of the Riverlands. How could you not recognize your own liege lord's banner?"
"It seems your family's maester isn't entirely incompetent after all."
Davion ignored his teasing, his gaze fixed on House Tully's banner. Behind that trout banner, he saw many familiar banners!
There was House Darry's plowman banner!
House Goodbrook's banner, with blue stripes on yellow!
House Lychester's orange-and-white banner, bearing an eagle's talon!
And House Leygood's banner, bearing a green weeping willow on white!
The reason Davion knew these banners so well was simple: all four houses were Harrenhal's "good neighbors"!
They were the nobles who had seized Harrenhal's land and forcibly taken the farmers within its domain.
Davion's gaze sharpened, and he gritted his teeth as he thought:
Why not collect a little interest at this Hand's Tourney first!
Once the tourney ends and I return to Harrenhal, I'll demand an explanation from each of you and settle this old score properly!
He calculated inwardly:
Look at you all, dressed so splendidly in such magnificent armor. You must have gained plenty from occupying Harrenhal's lands all these years!
Your compensation had better be no less than the champion's purse at this Hand's Tourney, or don't expect to settle this peacefully!
Amid the enthusiastic clamor, the morning quietly slipped away.
According to the Hand's Tourney schedule, the first morning was devoted solely to the opening ceremony and the knights' procession. The actual jousting would not begin until the afternoon.
The number of entrants was enormous, including not only noble knights from all across the Seven Kingdoms but also many mercenaries and free knights who had traveled from overseas. As such, the jousting would last several days.
The first day's schedule was relatively light. The knights only had to win one match to advance to the next round.
Tyrion arranged a sumptuous lunch for Davion, with roast pork leg, ale, fresh fruit, and bread.
He was then hurriedly summoned away by a servant. Tywin was taking him along to the royal luncheon.
However much Tywin despised his dwarf son, he would never neglect etiquette on an occasion involving House Lannister's dignity.
Tyrion arrived outside the luxurious tent temporarily erected for Tywin.
The tent was sewn from fine brocade and adorned with gold and silver. Two Lannister household soldiers in red cloaks stood at its entrance, their expressions solemn.
He took several deep breaths, suppressed the complicated feelings in his heart, and deliberately put on a careless, cynical smile. Then he lifted the heavy entrance flap and went inside.
The tent was lavishly furnished, with thick woolen carpets and a broad, long table in the center. Tywin sat upright at its head.
He wore fitted black clothes beneath a deep red cloak. The golden lion emblem on his chest was particularly striking, and he radiated a suffocating pressure.
Cersei and Jaime sat below him on either side of the long table.
Cersei wore a golden gown, her expression haughty.
Jaime was still in his Kingsguard armor, a somewhat languid smile playing at his lips.
Tyrion spread his arms slightly and said in an exaggerated tone:
"Father, why didn't you let me know beforehand that you would be gracing King's Landing with your presence? I could have welcomed you at the city gates and fulfilled my duties as your son!"
As he spoke, he hurried to the seat beside Jaime and hopped lightly onto the chair.
At the sight of him, Cersei immediately frowned, undisguised disgust appearing on her face, as though even one more glance at him would defile her.
Jaime smiled with closed lips, a touch of helpless indulgence in his eyes.
Tywin remained expressionless throughout, his gaze fixed on Tyrion as he rebuked him:
"There was no sign of you all morning. Have you only just crawled out of some whore's bed again?"
"Today is Prince Joffrey's Name Day tourney. To absent yourself without leave from an occasion of such importance is utterly disgraceful!"
Tyrion did not argue. He merely shrugged indifferently, the same cynical smile still on his face.
He had long since grown accustomed to Tywin's reprimands. No amount of argument would accomplish anything.
Seeing this, Jaime hurriedly spoke up for him:
"Father, I saw Tyrion during the knights' procession. He was in the stands beside us. He wasn't absent."
But Tywin seemed not to have heard Jaime at all. He continued staring at Tyrion, his tone brooking no argument:
"Tyrion, go and change your clothes immediately. Do not attend the royal luncheon reeking of whores and bring utter shame upon House Lannister."
Tyrion pursed his lips at Jaime, as if to say, "See? Even your words don't work!"
Jaime could only smile helplessly.
Cersei went so far as to raise a hand and wave it dramatically in front of her nose, as though she truly smelled something pungent, her disgust deepening.
She asked Tywin respectfully:
"Father, besides attending Joffrey's Name Day tourney, was there another reason you came all the way from the Westerlands to King's Landing yourself?"
Before you continue