The joust (part one)

The Jousting Tournament was about to begin, and nearly a hundred knights began lining up to draw lots.

They would then head to the north or south side of the tournament grounds, depending on whether they had drawn an odd or even number.

Once the tournament officially began, the knights on either side would take the field one after another in numerical order. At that moment, they had only one conviction: to knock every competitor off his horse with the wooden lance in their hands!

Since someone had withdrawn earlier, Gary was very "lucky" to receive a bye.

He did not need to compete in the first round and advanced straight to the next.

Gary rode over to the wooden railing, bored out of his mind, wanting to see how the tournament was progressing.

The two contestants in the first match had already reached opposite ends of the lists, and their servants were making their final checks.

On the royal viewing stand, the crowned king held up his wine cup, seemingly saying something at the top of his voice.

Two men stood before him, one with a sword at his waist and the other with a Wooden Bow on his back. They seemed to be the two winners from the morning's contests.

The queen, dressed in all her finery, seemed unable to bear the king's boorish behavior and sat rubbing her temples incessantly.

The king's three children were also seated on the raised stand, happy smiles spread across their faces. They seemed very pleased with the tournament.

The two boys were far more excited than Princess Myrcella. Both had left their seats and were standing on tiptoe to watch the knights waiting at either end of the lists. Presumably, they were eagerly anticipating the Jousting Tournament to come.

Gary was some distance from the royal stand. Even after looking for quite a while, he could not spot Arya there.

In fact, Arya was standing right beside Princess Myrcella, but her small figure happened to be hidden behind the princess.

"Whew, are you nervous?"

Jaime rode up beside Gary. He and Gary had been placed in the same half of the draw, so they definitely would not face each other in the first few rounds.

Gary ignored him. Now that he knew Cersei wanted to harm him, Jaime, the queen's brother and lover, was not someone he could trust.

The corners of Jaime's mouth rose despite himself. "Don't be so cold. I did lend you a warhorse and plate armor, after all."

Gary corrected him. "They might both belong to House Lannister, but Tyrion lent them to me, not you."

Jaime raised a hand and swept back his handsome golden hair. "Do you think Tyrion would own things like a warhorse and plate armor?"

Gary turned to look at Jaime. "So you came over just to hear me thank you? Then thank you for your help. But aren't you afraid I'll lose your horse and armor?"

Jaime spoke with utter disdain. "Oh? You've already figured out the rules of a knightly tournament? It doesn't matter if you lose. We Lannisters don't care about such things. It's just a suit of plate armor and a warhorse. They're hardly worth much."

Gary sneered. "Heh, just what I'd expect from the wealthiest family on the continent."

With that, he ignored Jaime and turned back toward the royal stand, trying to find Arya.

Jaime followed his gaze and looked over as well. "Are you watching His Grace reward the winners? Or are you looking at Princess Myrcella?"

Relax, I'm not looking at your daughter. No need to get anxious, Dad.

Gary gave an offhand reply. "Those two are this morning's winners?"

Jaime said casually, "The winning family in the team competition has already received their honors and prize money and left. Those two are the archery and swordsmanship champions. His Grace is about to award them their prize money."

Prize money?

Gary was just about to ask when, on the distant royal stand, two servants carried over two small wooden chests and set them before the two men.

"What's in those chests?"

Jaime rubbed his stubble. "Gold."

Gary's eyes widened. "All Gold Dragons?"

Prices in King's Landing were high. Shopping with Arya over the past few days had already exhausted all his savings, and he was short of money right now.

Jaime nodded. "Yes. The champions each receive five thousand Gold Dragons."

Gary's expression grew grave. He was confident in his Archery, too. If he had learned this sooner, he might have won the archery competition.

Five thousand Gold Dragons, just like that, slipped through my fingers.

"Does the Jousting Tournament champion get prize money?" he asked, tilting his head.

Jaime asked in some surprise, "Are you that short of money? Hiss, the North may be poor, but surely not as poor as you?"

Gary's face was cold. "I'm a bastard. What right do I have to use Winterfell's money? Answer me first. Does the Jousting Tournament champion get prize money?"

Jaime could not help laughing. "You're that confident? The champion... the Jousting Tournament champion gets no prize money, but he can receive something countless times more precious."

Don't tell me that thing is a knight's honor.

The burning flame in Gary's eyes instantly died. He sighed and looked at Ice hanging from his saddle. "Never mind. Even if there's no money, I still have to give it everything I've got."

On the raised stand, the two winners bowed respectfully, then each carried his money chest down from the stand.

After they left, King Robert loudly declared the Jousting Tournament officially underway.

The two knights competing in the first match first rode up before the royal stand and gave His Grace a knight's salute.

Then they returned to opposite ends of the lists to prepare for the coming charge.

Both knights were covered from head to toe in plate and mail, concealing all their physical features. Only the cloths bearing their house sigils draped over their horses allowed the watching nobles to identify which houses they came from.

They sat upright on their warhorses, each holding a wooden lance roughly three meters long in one hand and a wooden shield bearing his house sigil in the other. Both glared fiercely at their opponent, poised to strike.

The grounds used for the morning's competitions had all been cleared, and the city's common folk would come to the Kingswood in groups at this time to watch the upcoming contests.

After all, the Jousting Tournament, with its highest death rate, and the chance to witness the crowning of a new "Queen of Love and Beauty" were far more entertaining than the morning's archery and team competitions.

They had no dedicated viewing stands, however, and could only gather around the outside of the grounds and watch on their feet.

Gary really had little interest in this sort of straightforward Jousting Tournament. He asked Jaime, "Which of those two do you think will win?"

Jaime was indifferent. "It doesn't matter. Neither of them is a rival for you or me."

While they were talking, the match had already been decided. One knight fell from his horse, while the other remained mounted and advanced to the next round.

"Then who is a rival for you and me? The Mountain? Or the Hound?" Gary asked again.

Jaime was not surprised. He smiled. "It seems my dear brother has told you quite a lot. But you're overthinking it. Neither the Mountain nor the Hound will be taking part in this tournament."

Not taking part? Then why did Cersei summon the Mountain all the way to King's Landing?

Gary could not help pondering whether he and Tyrion had misunderstood, or whether Cersei wanted to kill him in secret.

Jaime offered a kindly reminder. "If you really are as strong as the rumors say, there are only three opponents worth your attention. The Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell, and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Barristan Selmy. They're both very formidable opponents."

Gary searched his memory. The Knight of Flowers? That handsome gay guy? Yes, he did seem pretty good. As for Barristan Selmy, he had no recollection of him, but as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the man's abilities were probably not to be underestimated.

"You just said three people. Who's the other one?"

Jaime tossed his golden hair, put his helmet back on, and left him with a single word. "Me."

He rode toward the opening in the wooden railing and slowly entered the lists. It seemed the next match was his.

Thank you to Power of Silence for the tip and monthly votes. You're generous, boss! Thank you so much!

And thank you to all my other dear readers for sticking with me. Mushroom bows to the ground in thanks.