The Knight of House Leygood

The afternoon sun grew ever fiercer, and the Tournament Grounds erupted in noise once more.

Clad in armor and mounted on warhorses, the many contestants gathered outside the entrance to the field.

The pairings had long since been decided, and every contestant already knew his first-round opponent. The air bristled with tension.

Davion's luck was not bad. Of the hundreds of pairings, his was the fourth to compete, so he would not have to wait long.

And his first-round opponent happened to be a knight of House Leygood, one of Harrenhal's "Goodbrook" neighbors.

It was one of those bullying houses that had spent years seizing Harrenhal's lands and plundering its farmers.

By now, the first pair of knights had ridden onto the field, and cheers instantly rang out across the grounds.

Davion and the Knight of House Leygood waited side by side at the entrance, both mounted, with their helmets tucked under their arms.

The Knight of House Leygood's warhorse wore a caparison embroidered with his house's sigil, its green willows on a white field particularly striking.

The knight wore a matching surcoat over his heavy armor.

His helmet was engraved with exquisite patterns and adorned with colorful feathers, looking splendid and ostentatious, every detail showing his house's confidence.

Davion curled his lip in disdain and silently grumbled:

"I underestimated them. I thought my armor looked impressive and eye-catching enough, but these Riverlands natives are even more ostentatious than I am. They practically want to carve 'I'm rich' onto their faces."

By contrast, Davion wore nothing but bare armor without any extra ornamentation, and his warhorse was equally bare, without a caparison.

But he also had to admit that heavily armored knights carried an inherent air of majesty. Even without lavish decoration, a man in full armor would never look bad!

The Knight of House Leygood clearly knew of his house's history of seizing House Hean's lands and plundering its farmers. His gaze at Davion was filled with undisguised contempt.

With a mocking edge to his voice, he said arrogantly:

"Well, well, isn't this someone from House Hean?"

"If I remember right, House Hean's numbers dwindled long ago. Aren't they nearly all dead?"

"Could you be the current Earl of Harrenhal, Davion Hean?"

"How terribly rude of me! Hahahaha!"

He looked Davion's armor and warhorse up and down, then gave a derisive laugh and continued:

"To think a down-and-out earl like you still has the money to enter the Hand's Tourney!"

"That armor of yours is decent, though your horse leaves something to be desired!"

"If you lose in a moment, that armor and that horse will both be mine! Hahaha!"

This was an unwritten rule of the Hand's Tourney: the victor could claim all the loser's equipment, including his warhorse and weapons.

Normally, the loser needed only to pay a small ransom to recover his equipment, allowing both sides to retain some dignity.

But judging by the Knight of House Legh's tone, he clearly had no intention of leaving Davion any dignity.

If he won, he would never return the armor to Davion. He plainly wanted to seize the opportunity to humiliate him.

At that moment, Davion was watching the first pair of knights compete with keen interest, so absorbed that he had no attention to spare for the racket beside him.

Yet the Knight of House Leygood kept buzzing endlessly in his ear like a fly, the arrogance and mockery in his voice thoroughly irritating Davion.

At last, he frowned and slowly turned to look at the Knight of House Leygood.

His gaze was utterly cold, without a trace of warmth, like a blade in the depths of winter piercing straight into the heart.

He said nothing, but the Knight of House Legh's laughter abruptly stopped!

An inexplicable chill rose within the knight. He could not stop quailing, and instinctively looked away, no longer daring to meet Davion's eyes.

But a moment later, he came to his senses. Davion was merely a destitute earl with no one left but himself. His house's power had long since been destroyed, and there was nothing to fear.

He forced down his panic and braced himself to stare back.

But by then, Davion had already turned his attention back to the field and did not spare him another glance.

On the field, the first two knights had completed a circuit and met below the main stand.

The master of ceremonies held a speaking trumpet and proclaimed something in an impassioned voice, but Davion was too far away to make out the words.

In the main stand, King Robert also said a few words to the knights.

Then both knights donned their helmets and rode toward the starting areas at either end of the jousting field.

The Joust, in essence, was an imitation of a knightly charge on the battlefield.

Two heavily armored knights charged at one another on horseback, lances in hand, and whoever unhorsed his opponent won the contest.

The field was roughly a hundred meters long and a little over thirty meters wide, with a wooden barrier down the center separating their charging lanes.

This both ensured a fair contest and prevented the knights from colliding head-on and causing unnecessary casualties.

The two knights stopped in their starting areas and carefully checked their armor's fastenings once more to ensure nothing was loose. Then their squires handed them their jousting lances.

Most knights supplied their own jousting lances, and a single lance was enough to reveal whether a knight's house was powerful.

For instance, the two knights on the field both used lances with shafts made from select ash, which cost more than ordinary jousting lances.

The tips were blunt and sheathed in fine steel, with exquisite patterns engraved upon them to display their taste.

Their house sigils were carved into the guards, making their identities apparent at a glance.

A lance like this cost roughly twenty to fifty Silver Stags, far beyond the means of an ordinary hedge knight.

Knights from wealthier houses, such as Lannister and Tyrell, chose the more precious goldenheart for their shafts, which was harder than ash and felt better in the hand.

Their lance tips were likewise sheathed in fine steel, but the engraved patterns were gilded, making them still more splendid.

The carvings on their guards were also more intricate and delicate, and even set with tiny gems.

These lances cost a hundred times as much as ash lances, reaching one to five Gold Dragons apiece. Only exceedingly wealthy noble knights were willing to use them.

As for Davion, the lance in his hand was simpler than either kind, the most ordinary and cheapest model.

Its shaft was made from ordinary ash, without any carving or decorations such as a house sigil. It could not have been plainer.

Even its tip had merely been roughly sheathed in ordinary wrought iron.

There was nothing for it. Davion had only just arrived in King's Landing, and with so little time, he had no opportunity to commission a batch of decent lances.

Besides, he knew that most jousting lances were disposable and would break after a single pass.

Spending extra money to make ornate lances served purely to display a house's power. It offered little help in the contest itself and was not worth the cost.