Defeating Jaime!

The atmosphere in the lists had reached a fever pitch. Cheers and shouts rose from the common folk in waves, and even the air brimmed with hot blood and restless energy.

Robert, seated on his throne, was swept up in the excitement as well. Forgetting his earlier dislike of Davion for the moment, he waved his great hand and announced loudly:

"Let the semifinals begin!"

The semifinal pairings had already been decided.

Davion would face Jaime Lannister, while Barristan would face the Mountain.

Both contests promised a clash between the best, but Davion's match against Jaime in particular had the entire crowd waiting eagerly!

Jaime Lannister owed his renown throughout the Seven Kingdoms chiefly to his consummate swordsmanship.

At just fifteen, he had accompanied the army into the Kingswood to root out the band of outlaws entrenched there.

The Kingswood Brotherhood.

Young and fearless, Jaime had fought the Brotherhood's leader, the Smiling Knight, head-on. Even when he found himself in peril, he had fought desperately without retreating.

At the crucial moment, Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had ridden to his rescue, saving Jaime from his desperate predicament and slaying the Smiling Knight himself.

Moved by Jaime's courage and tenacity, Arthur Dayne had knighted him on the spot with his greatsword Dawn, an honor Jaime could take pride in for the rest of his life.

Of course, Jaime was best known not for his courage, but for driving his sword into the back of the reigning Targaryen king, Aerys the Mad King. It had earned him the reviled name "Kingslayer," forever branding him with shame.

Compared with his consummate swordsmanship, Jaime's skill with a lance fell somewhat short, placing him roughly on a level with Loras Tyrell and Sandor Clegane, the Hound.

Jaime's most famous jousting performance had been at the Hand's Tourney in Lannisport.

He and Jorah Mormont had reached the final, where they had traded passes, breaking nine lances in succession and charging at each other dozens of times without a victor emerging.

In the end, Robert himself had declared Jorah Mormont the champion.

Even so, Jaime's skill with a lance was more than enough to crush the vast majority of knights.

This time, he thought nothing of facing Davion.

He had watched all of Davion's earlier matches and believed he had uncovered the secret to his victories.

Nothing more than brute strength far beyond that of an ordinary man.

His ultimate target here had never been Davion, but the legendary Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Barristan Selmy.

He yearned to face that veteran and prove his own strength.

As was customary, the two knights stood side by side at the entrance to the lists, waiting to enter.

Jaime looked utterly relaxed. His helmet rested on his saddle, with his elbow propped casually upon it. His posture was languid, yet his exceptionally handsome face made him all the more charming.

Good-looking people carried an aura of their own, even in their most casual gestures.

"Earl Davion."

"Ser Jaime."

Davion inclined his head slightly.

Though he did not much care for this "Kingslayer," he still maintained the outward courtesies expected of a nobleman.

"Tyrion told me you made a wager with him?"

Jaime wore a teasing smile, his tone seemingly friendly, yet his inborn aristocratic arrogance still made ordinary people feel inferior despite themselves.

Davion was no ordinary man. He smiled slightly.

"Young Master Tyrion has a kind heart. Knowing how hard life is for me at Harrenhal, he insisted on giving me a thousand Gold Dragons to spend. Such generosity was difficult to turn down, so I could hardly refuse."

Jaime raised his eyebrows, a glint of amusement passing through his eyes.

"Tyrion also said you liked to boast. It seems he was right! From the look of you, you seem quite certain you can win the championship?"

Davion spread his hands.

"Ser Jaime, isn't everyone here at the Hand's Tourney to compete for the championship?"

"Besides, with Young Master Tyrion's thousand Gold Dragons at stake, I have even more reason to win."

Jaime could not help laughing. He could see that although Davion's tone was playful, his eyes and expression revealed immense confidence.

Still smiling, he picked up his helmet and slowly put it on, his tone growing somewhat more serious.

"Earl Davion, be careful. I won't go easy on you just because you're Tyrion's friend."

"Ser Jaime, just give it your all."

The two rode a circuit of the lists before approaching the main stand.

But Robert had long since lost patience. Before they could even come to a halt, he waved impatiently, signaling them to hurry up and prepare for the match.

Robert disliked Jaime even more than Davion. This Kingslayer had always been a thorn in his side.

Faced with two men he detested so deeply, he had no inclination even to offer a few ceremonial words.

In recent years, Robert had grown ever more unrestrained, indulging in wine and women while neglecting affairs of state. In public, he often disregarded even his dignity as king.

He had even begun to lose patience with maintaining cordial relations with House Lannister, which supported the entire royal treasury.

Seeing Robert treat Jaime with such disrespect, Cersei looked visibly displeased. Anger flashed in her eyes, but his position as king kept her from venting it.

Tywin Lannister, meanwhile, remained expressionless, as though everything before him had nothing to do with him.

Yet deep within his eyes lay a barely perceptible chill.

Neither Davion nor Jaime paid any heed to Robert's disrespect. They rode to the starting areas at opposite ends of the lists and prepared for their contest.

Cheers rose from the spectators at the sidelines, though almost all were for Davion:

"Bat Knight, take down the Kingslayer!"

Suddenly, an angry roar came from the crowd:

"Kill the fucking Lannister!"

The man evidently knew how outrageous his words were. As soon as he shouted them, he slipped into the crowd and disappeared.

More and more people joined the cheering, their cries gradually merging into a single chant:

"Take down the Kingslayer! Take down the Kingslayer!"

It showed just how unpopular Jaime Lannister was in King's Landing.

Hearing those grating cries, Jaime showed no anger. Instead, he simply removed his helmet and flashed the spectators a smug smile.

That gesture instantly ignited the crowd's fury. Cheers and curses grew still fiercer, almost enough to bring down the entire tourney ground.

In the stands, Tyrion's brow furrowed deeply.

He knew Jaime's temperament all too well. He appeared flippant and indifferent, but beneath that facade he was intensely proud and sensitive.

His provocation now was merely a way to conceal the hurt and humiliation within.

If he truly did not care, he would not have answered the crowd's curses in such a manner.

The master of ceremonies noticed that the situation was gradually slipping out of control. If this continued, there might well be trouble.

He immediately shouted, "Ready!"

"Begin!"

As his words fell, the grounds instantly went silent. Every spectator held their breath, their eyes fixed on the two figures in the lists.

Those who hated Jaime, however, continued chanting inwardly: Kill the Kingslayer. Kill the Kingslayer.

Jaime had already watched several of Davion's matches and knew full well that his overwhelming strength could not be met head-on.

For that reason, he had deliberately chosen a curved round shield this time.

Such shields were particularly good at deflecting force, making one just the thing to counter Davion's brute strength.

In an instant, the two warhorses drew closer and closer.

Davion struck first. Gripping his lance tightly in his right hand, he thrust its tip straight toward Jaime's chest.

Jaime was ready. The round shield in his left hand rose at once, intercepting the lance tip with precision.

Clang! A sharp ring sounded.

Surprisingly, Davion's lance did not shatter beneath the tremendous impact. Instead, it slid along the curve of the round shield, its force deftly deflected.

At the same time, Jaime's lance struck Davion's shield.

With a sharp crack, the expensive goldenheart lance in Jaime's hand snapped apart.

The sight he had imagined, of the impact knocking Davion from his horse, did not materialize.

Davion merely dipped his shoulder slightly and steadied himself.

That tremendous impact seemed to vanish into thin air, failing to shake him in the slightest.

The two riders swept past each other at speed. Davion swiftly wheeled his horse around, marveling inwardly:

Jaime Lannister certainly lives up to his name. With all that combat experience, he actually thought to use a round shield to deflect the force!

But are you really certain you can block my lance so precisely every time?

In the first pass, both men had attacked and defended, with neither gaining victory.

The entire tourney ground fell deathly silent, then erupted into a thunderous buzz of discussion.

The spectators' excitement flared once more:

"They actually tied!"

"Gods, the Bat Knight has met his match this time! In his earlier matches, he took down every opponent on the very first pass!"

In the stands, Robert's brow furrowed deeply.

Though he hated Jaime, he had to admit that the man's martial prowess was formidable, ranking among the very best in the Seven Kingdoms.

But he had never imagined that this "Bat Knight," who had appeared out of nowhere, could hold Jaime to a draw. Such strength far exceeded his expectations.

Cersei also frowned deeply, staring fixedly at Davion in the lists, her eyes filled with disbelief.

At first, she had thought nothing of Davion, certain that Jaime would make short work of such an untested youngster.

Only when the two fought to a draw did she truly turn her attention to the lists:

What is Jaime doing? How could he tie with this boy? Impossible. He is the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms! He will win!

Tyrion, meanwhile, clutched his head in disbelief and muttered to himself:

"How? Was Jaime holding back? No, he would never treat a contest like this as a joke."

"Then Davion really is that strong?"

"He can actually match Jaime?"

"Seven above, what kind of monster is he?"

A sharp gleam flashed through Tywin Lannister's eyes, and at last his expression shifted slightly.

He knew his son's abilities extremely well. Since the War of the Usurper ended, Jaime had rarely met his match. Now, an obscure lord from the Riverlands had forced him to a draw, arousing Tywin's keen interest in Davion.

Harrenhal in the Riverlands occupies an excellent position. It is both a major crossroads and a focal point on the battlefield, making it strategically vital.

He calculated silently.

If I could bring Davion into my service and place Harrenhal in Lannister hands, the entire Riverlands would be within my grasp...

In the lists, Davion and Jaime threw away their broken lances at the same time. Attendants hurried forward to hand them fresh ones.

Both accepted their lances without the slightest hesitation, urged their warhorses onward, and charged again.

This time, Davion changed his strategy. His lance appeared to aim straight at Jaime's chest, but he held another move in reserve.

Jaime took the bait. Following the same strategy as before, he raised his round shield to deflect Davion's force.

But just as the lance tip was about to touch the shield, Davion exerted a sudden burst of strength. Using his far greater power, he forcibly shifted the tip's direction slightly, bypassing the shield and driving straight for Jaime's shoulder.

By then, it was far too late for Jaime to adjust his position and block.

He could only hastily twist aside to dodge. As his body shifted, his own lance went off target.

But he was still a moment too slow. Davion's lance tip struck Jaime squarely in the shoulder.

More fortuitously still, the tip caught in a gap in his armor. Davion followed through with his strength, lifting Jaime bodily into the air.

Only when the lance could no longer bear Jaime's weight and snapped with a crack did Jaime fall heavily to the ground with a dull thud.

Davion hurled the broken lance from his hand, then pulled off his helmet, revealing a young, exuberant face!

Even with his steady temperament, Davion could hardly contain his excitement at that moment!