Jousting Tournament (Part Three)

In the bouts that followed, Gary repeated his tactics from the first round and eliminated several more knights.

The others began targeting him, but whatever countermeasures those knights could think of had little effect. With no other options, they could only join him and start imitating his tactics.

Their thinking was simple: if they used the same tactics, they could hold their own against him.

Yet only after trying did they discover an utterly shocking fact: this unremarkable, scrawny little fellow seemed to possess strength comparable to the Mountain's.

The tournament gradually drew toward its end, and fewer and fewer knights remained on the field.

Gary had completely lost interest in the tournament. Between rounds, he would hide off to one side and slack off, paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else's matches.

Actually, the main problem was that all the knights wore helmets, and he did not recognize their house sigils, so he had no way to observe them.

Just after the round of sixteen ended, Jaime appeared again.

He came up beside Gary and complained, "What's so special about you, anyway?"

Gary did not understand what he meant, but he still keenly noticed that Jaime had changed his armor.

Jaime was no longer wearing the plate armor he had worn for the tournament. He had changed back into his pale gold Kingsguard armor.

"You lost?" Gary was very surprised.

He knew full well that Jaime was a formidable fighter, outstanding in both horsemanship and swordsmanship. An expert like him had actually failed to reach the quarterfinals?

Jaime rubbed his injured shoulder. "Barristan the Bold. He may be old, but he has plenty of experience. I believe he's competed in more tournaments than anyone else here. I lost to him at jousting, and I accept that wholeheartedly."

Barristan? The commander of the Kingsguard?

Gary said nothing, but quietly made a mental note of it.

Jaime continued, "With the current order, if you beat Loras next, you'll face Barristan in the final."

Huh? His next opponent was the gay Knight of Flowers? How did Jaime know more about it than he did?

"You're that kindhearted? You came all this way just to warn me?"

Jaime laughed. "Of course not. I came to find out why Tyrion is helping you so much. What does he want from you?"

Still wearing his heavy plate armor, Gary struggled to get up from the grass. "What else has Tyrion done to help me?"

Jaime leaned against a tree with a teasing smile. "Originally, I paid a hefty bribe to the nobleman handling the draw to have him pit me against you in the first round. But instead, you and I ended up in the same half of the bracket. The only explanation is that Tyrion paid him even more gold dragons than I did."

The northerners were not that scheming. It would never have occurred to them to spend a fortune on a bribe to arrange Gary's matches. And Gary was a stranger in King's Landing; Tyrion was the only person he could call a friend.

Yes, this did sound like something Tyrion Lannister would do.

But Jaime was right. He and Tyrion were not particularly close, so why was Tyrion helping him so much?

"Bwooo!"

A horn interrupted their conversation. The quarterfinals had begun.

As the number of contestants dwindled, the tournament moved along faster and faster. Although Gary was not the first to take the field, he still had to get ready.

He told Jaime with a perfectly straight face, "If you Lannisters didn't have so many worldly desires, perhaps we could become good friends."

With that, he mounted his horse and returned to the lists.

Jaime pondered Gary's words. What worldly desires? Women? Gold? Or power? Is this Stark bastard seriously wrong in the head?

The third quarterfinal match pitted Gary against Loras, the Knight of Flowers.

Loras Tyrell was handsome and wealthy. His family, House Tyrell, ruled the Reach and seemed to be the second-richest house on the continent.

The moment he took the field, not only did the noble young ladies in the stands keep casting flirtatious glances his way, but even the commoner matrons outside the field let out waves of shrieks. It was a full-blown celebrity fan gathering, leaving the other men utterly envious and jealous.

Unfortunately, he was gay.

Gary silently put on his helmet. He felt that, in these women's eyes, he was a heinous demon king, while Loras was the hero bravely challenging him.

Jaime was handsome too, actually, but he was devoted exclusively to his sister, which made him considerably less charming than the outwardly flirtatious Loras.

As for Gary... well, he looked decent enough, but his mismatched eyes were simply too strange for people of this era to accept.

Loras's plate armor was exquisitely crafted as well, with metal flowers fitted all over it, truly living up to his title-the Knight of Flowers.

His plate armor looked less like equipment meant to protect him and more like an exquisitely beautiful work of art.

"Tsk, tsk. That outfit must have cost quite a few gold dragons."

Gary sighed inwardly. Only after traveling beyond it did he realize just how impoverished the North was.

"Bwooo!"

The horn sounded again, and Gary and Loras charged toward each other.

Gary intended to continue using his sweeping lance attack, but Loras was clever. He had already thought of a way to counter it.

When Gary dodged his thrust and prepared to sweep his lance, Loras followed through by leaning backward until he lay flat on his horse's back, successfully evading the blow.

They passed each other and rode to opposite ends of the lists, preparing for a second charge.

Gary was not surprised. Sweeping a lance sideways left openings everywhere, so it was only natural that someone would counter it.

At the other end, Loras felt certain of victory. All he had to do was keep dodging until Gary was exhausted. Then it would be time to attack.

During a joust, lances could only be used to strike riders, not to maliciously stab their horses.

So, as he saw it, Gary could either compete with him fairly in a contest of lance thrusts or wait for him to wear him down completely.

The two adjusted their positions and soon launched their second charge.

When they met, Gary changed his usual approach. Instead of sweeping his lance, he thrust it straight forward.

Loras had anticipated this move long ago and immediately raised his wooden shield.

Crack!

The tremendous force of their opposing charges shattered Loras's wooden shield instantly. At the same time, Loras's lance was almost at Gary's throat.

To everyone's surprise, Gary raised his left hand and took the blow head-on with the vambrace on his forearm.

An ordinary person's left arm would probably have broken.

But Gary was not only unharmed; the instant before they passed each other, he suddenly pulled his horse's head around. He swiftly turned sideways, raised his lance, and thrust at Loras's back.

Take this, kid-a turning lance strike!

Bang!

Loras had no idea what had happened. All he felt was a tremendous force striking his back and throwing him off his horse.

"Despicable!"

"Northerners have no shame!"

"He's disgraced a knight's honor! He must be disqualified!"

For a moment, not only the women watching the match but even the men who had remained silent joined in condemning Gary.

Gary had an incredibly thick skin. He sat on his horse, haughty and unruffled.

What's all the shouting for? It's called tactics. Do you people understand anything at all?