272 AС
Lannisport to Highgarden is over 500 miles away. We covered such a distance in twenty-five days of slow driving and stops for rest. When you ride in good company, the journey is much more fun. On the way, the guys told me the peculiarities of working with gold, silver, copper and gems. In response, I shared with them the secrets of working with iron and wood, which they listened to with great interest.
The four of us belonged to that rare category of people who love their work. It was interesting to hear something new, whether it's knowledge or ideas for their future work. For example, Rick got the idea of how to make electrum, an alloy of gold and silver, much more uniform after hearing a few "secret" techniques for creating and working with composite steel.
Along the way, we often stopped at different villages, taverns and farms. Each of us rested in our own way. If Joen, Rick and Jack mostly dragged girls to the hayloft and drank in taverns, then I talked with the locals. Hunters, masons, carpenters, blacksmiths - I talked with everyone, trying to learn something new and interesting about their craft. Sometimes he even paid extra in minted coins for some of their secrets that were not particularly important. The result of these conversations were two new fellow travelers who decided to see the world with me. Robin, a young hunter, and Piper, a bald, middle-aged carpenter, fit in perfectly with our company.
The ocean road leading from the Westlands to the fertile southern Reach was guarded by two castles, Crakehole and Old Oak. They were frontier houses, guarding this path since ancient times, along with the Swifts of Cornfil and the Cranes of Scarlet Lake. These strongholds have been the borders of the two ever-warring Kingdoms of the Cliff and the Kingdom of Meadows and Fields for millennia. Only after looking at them and remembering the castles that I saw in Europe, it became clear that the Westerosi far surpassed the earthlings in the art of castle fortification, but almost did not develop towards peaceful construction. Both fortresses were like luxurious and beautiful pearls among a piece of stinking dung. Perfect stone fortifications that are very hard to take, and a bunch of wooden houses around, built without any plan. If I wanted to take these castles without loss, I would simply wait for a fair wind and set fire to these shacks. Anyone who hides behind the walls will suffocate in the resulting smoke.
So, slowly, once even beating the peasants, who mistakenly called themselves robbers and decided that it was possible to attack the armed with pitchforks, we got to the heart of the Reach - Highgarden. The ancestral castle of House Tyrell and one of the most beautiful castles in the Seven Kingdoms. Located on a high hill, on the banks of the Mander River, at the intersection of the Sea Road and the Rose Road, the High Garden was amazing.
- He lives up to his name. I told the others as we drove into the castle town. The Tyrell residence was surrounded by gardens, groves, fountains, shady pavilions and marble colonnades. It was visible even through the three rings of battlements of white stone, where each subsequent fortification was higher than the other. - There are many gardens. Just like the rumors said.
- The main thing is that other rumors are true. - Bassed Rick, like a brother ruling one of the wagons. Joen, Robin, and Piper sat together behind him, playing some kind of card game. The second wagon, driven by Jack, was crammed with skins and meat caught by Robin and me hunting, fish, and various small crafts we had made at our camps. You can sell all this and get some money, because the guys categorically refused to take them from me, and they had almost no funds of their own.
- Which ones exactly?
"That Arbor wine flows in rivers here, and the girls are the most beautiful and cheerful in all the Seven Kingdoms. - Rick laughed gutturally, and the others supported his simple joke.
- These rumors can be realized everywhere, even in the North. I smiled too, slightly amazed at how little a person wants sometimes. - The main thing is that you have enough coins in your wallet to call.
- Where can I get them? Robin yelled, judging by his sour face and the joyful faces of the others, he lost the last penny.
Don't worry, they'll be here in two days. - I smiled slyly, throwing the grout put for the passage into the hands of the guard.
- How do you know?
- You'll see for yourself.
***
- And remember. If you marinate this beautiful cod in a light wine sauce, then each piece of it will acquire a slight aftertaste of grapes. Your mother-in-law will choke herself in surprise when she tries it.
- Do you really think so? – The girl, whose purchase I diligently wrapped in a bundle, looked into my eyes naively.
- Certainly. I beamed at her, making her cheeks blush a little. "Every loving mother, deep down, believes that only she can look after her son. Even if he is already an adult. If you show yourself as a wonderful hostess, then easily melt her heart. Besides, according to you, she comes from the Arbor. Local residents simply adore grapes. This should cause her nostalgia and pleasant memories of her home.
- Thanks a lot. Joyfully, like a child, this young lady, who seemed to be several years older than me, clapped her hands as I passed the bundle of fish into the hands of one of her guards. May the Seven bless you.
"You too, milady. And congratulations on your upcoming wedding. - I said goodbye to a pretty girl, the last time she flashed her scythe and disappeared into the city streets. Judging by the silver hair and the coat of arms with a burning beacon at the guard, this maiden was one of the Khaitaurs, so her generosity is not surprising. So, it's time to pack your things. We've sold everything and it's time to wow… what's wrong with you!?
There was something to see. All five of my companions stood not far from our counter and looked at me like sheep at a new gate. Mouth to the ground, eyes from a golden dragon.
"Y-y-you sold everything in a few hours…" Robin stammered, looking in surprise at the purse hanging from my belt.
- Well, yes. In the West it would take two days, but in the Reach there are many pretty girls who appreciate true male beauty. I smiled, pushing a lock of hair down over my eyes. Still, my parents were very beautiful people, and I inherited all the best. A straight nose, thick black hair growing to the shoulder blades, a regular oval face, skin without a single mole and our family's bright green eyes, the color of young grass. Without exaggeration, I can call myself a nice guy, although I am still far from ideal.
- And e-earned almost 40 silver deer. Joen croaked, repeating after Robin.
- Yes, what's wrong with that? My surprised question only made them stare doomedly at the sky. Well, by their standards, even ten pieces of silver is a lot, and for them the fact that now that girl Hightower bought cod for one and a half deer, instead of the ten pennies laid down, greatly broke the picture of the world.
After some discussion, they decided to take only half of the money, and handed the rest to me. Pride wouldn't let them.
"Yeah, how about it" - I thought, lying down on the bed in the room rented in the tavern, having shaken out all the small inhabitants from it in advance. "Tomorrow they won't have a penny in their pockets"
And so it turned out. The next morning, these five Kazans stood in front of me in the courtyard of the hotel in the same trousers, with requests to pay their debts. These go... ahem, not-so-smart people managed to get into one of the most expensive brothels in Highgarden, running through almost 60 deer in a night. I had to get dressed and go to pay their debts and apologize to the bandera who was in charge of that brothel.
"Until you give me back every last coin, you won't come closer than a hundred yards to wine and whores!" Clear?! Otherwise, your empty heads will end up where they belong! In the ass!!! "My ohr has been listening to the whole inn for five minutes now, enjoying my plentiful supply of Andal mat. And all this was accompanied by prophylactic cuffs, for the final drive of my words into their empty heads. - Do you understand everything?
- Yes ... - Discordant chorus of voices was not the best answer, but it will do.
- Mace Tyrell's eighteenth name day tournament is still three days away. Since you have nothing to do in the city, you will be bored. A bored person is dangerous. He comes up with stupid ideas all the time. As the monologue progressed, my smile grew wider and the faces of my victim friends grew paler. "Therefore, my dear debtors, for the next three days you will live like me and do the same.
From the opened prospects, Joen even portrayed something similar to a faint. But, as Stanislavsky said, "I do not believe." The rest of the state went not far from him. They have long known about my training and constant work on themselves and sometimes they even call me a monster behind my back.
- Maybe we should not? Piper almost whispered, looking at me with the eyes of an innocent doe.
- It is necessary, my good, it is necessary. - After these words, my smile grew into an undisguised grin. They will know what happens for such setups. Although Piper is already a man in age. I'll be gentle with him.
The remaining days before the tournament were a routine for me, which cannot be said about the rest. For them, sleeping only four hours a day, not taking anything stronger than grape juice in their mouths at all, not going to women and constantly being on the move turned out to be very exhausting.
Yet in Westeros reigns a medieval way of life, characterized by great monotony and laziness. Yes, a peasant or an artisan can work for hours, bent over three deaths in a field or workshop, but this work is always homogeneous and does not require at least a little brain work. I, in order to maintain one of my main advantages over the locals - the sharpness of mind and the speed of thinking of a person of another time, tried to make my life the most diverse. He constantly came up with new exercises, changed his schedule in various ways, tried to master new professions and studied everything he could reach. Even if some of the skills were downright weird or useless. That's why I need to be able to shoot a bow with my feet or dance the "dance of the fingers"? Fuck knows, but it worked out well for me. At least I didn't accidentally shoot anyone or get the nickname "Felix the Fingerless."
***
- Ay… Be careful! I'm not your scarecrow! My scream was accompanied by a good slap on the back of the head, followed by a high-level obscene tirade. I know that Joen is not a squire, and not even a squire, but poking me with my own sword ... This is impudence. "You don't want me to bleed out before the fights start, do you?"
"I don't want, I don't want…" he muttered under his breath, tightening the last straps on his cuirass. Still offended. By God, like a little child.
- You do understand that I could not do otherwise? I looked doomed at this overgrown child who has been offended by me all morning because I did not allow him to participate in the tournament. - This is Space. Land of the Andals and knightly traditions. Here, even the archers, in order to participate, must be fiefs with their own land. You would have just been beaten and ridiculed back in this camp.
- Yes, I know, I know. - The ginger raised his voice greatly, that his voice in the last words gave a rooster. This even scared Bucephalus a little, whom he led by the bridle. At this tournament, the general fight took place on horseback, and not on foot. For me, this was not a big problem, because I felt my horse as part of myself, but for many it became a big obstacle - not everyone has a good warhorse. So Rick, Jack and Joen, who saw me in Lannisport and lived in my shoes for several days, and suddenly decided that the sea was knee-deep to them, were in the span.
- Besides ... - We must think of something to bring him out of melancholy. Of the five, the camelina was the most sensitive. If the brothers, after my refusal, simply went to the forge to work with hammers, and Robin and Paper only asked for a "day off", then Joen ... He always fell in love easily, got upset, rejoiced ... In general, he was a very emotional person. Hmm... Exactly! Where do you get the money for the entry fee?
After my words, he seemed to be struck by an electric current. To take part in any competition, it was necessary to make a small entry fee for a knight - 10 silver deer. For a simple worker, this amount was unbearable and immediately beat off all desire to try your luck. My sun-kissed friend apparently forgot about this while in his fantasies he smashed his enemies with a shining sword.
- You still owe me money. – Smiling, I said, stirring up his fiery mane a little. - So until you earn 5 pieces of silver, it's not like you can't dream of tournaments. You can't take wine in your mouth.
If a person could physically deflate like an inflatable ball, then Joen would long ago have been lying in an amorphous mass near the legs of my horse.
He was able to come to life only when I already went to the lists.
- Hey! There were four! I just laughed at his offended roar. There is nothing to click with a beak.
This time the situation was very different from the previous tournament. Mace Tyrell's name day is a purely local event, so the commoners will be the main participants. There will be no division into teams or formation of alliances. All at once against all. And this is good.
Space is the center of knightly traditions. Here the knights, after the lords, are the most privileged class. And all this caste has its own professional deformations. For example, their obsession with the knightly code and all the problems that follow from this. For example, honor forbids them to attack in the back and fight two or three against one. Because of this, the locals do not much like general fights and prefer clashes, honing the skill of the spear much better than the sword. And now I really need it.
Having left for the lists, after the herald announced my name with the already attached nickname Gray (Grey - Gray), I, as local etiquette dictates, paid tribute to the hosts of the tournament.
Luthor Tyrell was a burly man, with a thick black beard with a little grey, and kind brown eyes. According to local residents, this year he has already turned 47 years old, and he still behaved like a little child. He constantly arranged feasts, went hunting, always laughed and had fun, raising the mood of those around him with his very appearance. Everyone loved him, but they understood that the real power was concentrated in the hands of his wife, who was sitting next to him.
Lady Olenna Tyrell, nee Redwyn, was still a beautiful and very attractive woman in her late twenties. Blonde hair and small freckles, a feature inherent in all Redwyns, did not spoil her at all and only added to her attractiveness. But everyone in Westeros who follows rumors has long known that her true strength lay not in beauty, in which she lost to the same Queen Sheira in her youth, but in a strong and sharp mind. It is thanks to her that Space has been a single monolithic force led by the Tyrells for the last 20 years, where Luthor is represented by a beautiful and fragrant rose that everyone aspires to, and Olenna is represented by thorns that protect that rose. Hence her famous nickname, the Queen of Thorns.
Sitting next to my parents was the hero of the occasion, Mace Tyrell, with his fiancée, who turned out to be the same girl I sold the fish to, Aleria Hightower. Together they looked very harmonious. Tall, broad-shouldered, with thick, curly brown hair, Mace was a renowned strongman and knight who did well in mounted combat until he was knocked out. Aleria was a match for him. Tall, stately, with a long silver plait and a proud posture, the girl possessed a beauty that combined Valyrian and Andal features. But it was clear that most of all young people are united by their characters - cheerful, restless and slightly ... narrow-minded. According to Aleria, I can say this after a conversation with her, but about Mace they say that in his mind he went to his father, not his mother.
"Interesting family" - I thought, driving off to the farthest corner of the lists, from where it was more convenient to watch the rest and there were fewer people. "They also say that Westeros is a purely medieval world. Yes, not one Middle Ages could not tolerate such a pronounced matriarchy with an adult peasant. In the same Europe, over the Tyrells, the whole world would neigh "
Waiting for the last horseman to greet the hosts and the horn to signal the beginning of the fight, I rushed into the thick of it. These monsters, mistakenly called royal guards, were not here now, and I could disperse to the fullest.
What is a fight? Some people give it a sacred and sublime meaning, calling it a dance where every movement or mistake can be the last. Others consider the fight to be a branch of hell on Earth, where men unleash their inner beasts, completely surrendering to the adrenaline rush and their bloodlust.
The former are usually experienced swordsmen who pay tribute to their skill rather than brute force. For them, the battle is a series of endless duels, from which they just need to emerge victorious. A vivid historical example of such fighters were samurai and knights, for whom honor and skill in battle were everything.
The second representatives are better known as berserkers - fighters who rely heavily on the strength of their body and emotions that strengthen them. They are like bulls, they go to enemies like a red rag, not noticing anyone around.
I belong to the people of the third, separate class. For me in a fight, the most important thing is to keep my sobriety of mind, not to let strong feelings take over me. "Only constant control of yourself and your environment will give you at least some guarantee of survival," my father always told my brother and me during training. He spent a huge amount of time specifically on our self-discipline, believing that a cool head would help us out much more often than weapons skill or brute force. And I completely agreed with him. The only negative was that such warriors are not liked due to the fact that most of them are mercenaries - people of gold and selfishness, who cannot be forced to fight at the risk of themselves.
And now it seemed to me that I was among a herd of white sheep. The Prostorians fought only one on one, leaving their backs open, and most of the visitors were either clumsy or so crap armed that they could not even harm the "summer knights". There were, of course, several fighters in skills and equipment equal to the locals and not embarrassed to hit in the back, but they dispersed too much at the beginning of the fight and they were quickly calmed down by joint efforts.
I acted smarter. Quietly, without any haste, he glided between the fighters, making sharp and sudden attacks, "helping" the strongest or most enduring lose. The simplest "divide and conquer" tactic. Of course, from time to time I had to fight with the smartest who noticed my maneuver, but most of those present were already very tired, and it was not difficult to knock them out of the saddle.
It couldn't go on like this for long. After a couple of minutes, only seventeen people remained on horseback - fifteen "duelists" and myself with the same cunning mercenary who acted on the other side of the field. Here the tricks did not help and I had to use all my skills.
"Strike, retreat, turn, poke, defend." – Thoughts rushed about in my head like birds in a cage, while my hands, like windmills, waved the ax, knocking out the most stubborn and slow opponents from the saddle. Saved only by the instincts firmly driven into me by my father and the great experience of fights with my brother, who wielded a sword much better than those present.
Bang…
"Oh, you bastard." - An unexpected blow in the back, from the same mercenary, almost knocked me out of the saddle. Saved only by a shield, prudently hung on his back and held back most of the damage. But not everything was bad. Having abruptly stopped one of the blows, I hit the rat with all my foolishness. He apparently did not expect that my swing would sharply change direction and went flying from a good blow to the cuirass. But I did not manage to see his landing on mortal earth - the rest of the open spaces did not let me rest.
Despite barely maintaining calm, my head remained cold and my thoughts clear. The superiority of the two-handed ax over the one-handed sword began to show itself. Already after five or six of my blows, the weapons of the opponents were broken or knocked out of their hands, and the shields were shattered into chips or became unusable, while they themselves could not even come up to me to strike with a sword.
So, imperceptibly, of all those present on the horse, only I remained. The horn blew announcing my victory. Numerous disappointed and angry cries were heard from the stands. Many bet on their favorites, most of them former local and famous knights. The victory of some alien did not greatly please their patriotic feelings. Then it got even worse - they saw my face again and found out my age. And if Luthor and Olenna were able to contain their emotions, then Mace and Aleria were in complete shock. The heir of Highgarden, although he was already of age, and was about to marry soon, had never won tournaments in his life. And this made him very upset. He wanted a reputation as a knight and commander that would carry his name through the ages, like Harlen Tyrell, Serwyn Mirrorshield, or Garth Greenhand himself. The last war was against the Ninepenny Kings and during this time, Mace had just been born. Therefore, the only chance for him to prove himself was tournaments, where he did not find success. The heir to the Guardian of the South possessed too average and not outstanding skills, and his mother took care of him too much, knowing perfectly well that too often on the lists they become crippled and disabled.
And when he saw a boy several years younger than you win tournaments, his peace of mind fluctuated greatly.
- It's you! - Well, the shock of his chosen one was much more understandable. The fact that the young fishmonger you quietly discuss things with will be the winner of the overall bout at your fiancé's birthday tournament... It was more like the plot of some novels.
- Greetings milady. - As the penguins said in one cartoon that I watched with my grandson, "smile and wave." - It's only been a few days, and you have become even more beautiful. I even envy your fiancé. It is rare to see such a harmonious couple.
Space is the center of the local chivalric dream. Here ladies often see riders on white horses and listen to long serenades in their honor. But sometimes a simple and uncomplicated compliment can be more pleasant than hundreds of words. Aleria's face blushed against her will, and smiles appeared on Mace's and Luthor's faces. The first liked that he was "subtly" hinted that he was worthy of the hand of the first beauty of Old Town and the whole Reach, and the second was proud that he had "chosen" such a good bride for his son. Only Lady Olenna did not change her face.
- Ahem... - All the same, education honed over thousands of years is a terrible thing. Even in this situation, Hightower was easily able to regain her composure and complexion. One of the "virtues" of any lady. "I am also very pleased to see you, sir…"
- Felix. And I'm not a sir. "Can I still pay some poor knight to knight me?" Look how half of those present grimaced. In their eyes, I immediately fell a few steps down. Although, it's not necessary. This is not the best way to affect my reputation.
Unfortunately, further dialogue was interrupted by a quiet and almost imperceptible cough from the Queen of Thorns. Too much time and attention was spent on my person. I had to quickly take the horse by the bridle and go to my tent, change clothes and get ready. The archery competition always takes place on the same day as the general fight, and I need to be ready for it.
As a result, the day ended predictably enough. Among the shooters this time there was an opponent of the same level as me, but luck was on my side. If it were not for the wind that abruptly changed direction, knocking down the flight of the enemy's arrow, it is not known which of us would have won. It was already the third and last day of the tournament, so the award ceremony took place today.
The Reach is the richest region of Westeros, and the Tyrells are its grandlords. This automatically makes them one of the richest families among the entire aristocracy of the Seven Kingdoms. In wealth they can only be surpassed by the Targaryens, who are a royal dynasty, and the Lannisters, who have been sitting in the gold mines of Casterly Rock for thousands of years. Therefore, their rewards were very large, although smaller compared to the royal tournament in Lannisport. 1000 gold for victory in equestrian battles, five hundred gold for victory in general battle and 300 gold for archery competition. Giant money by the standards of the common people and most of the lords of small and medium hands. But for the Great House, these were ordinary expenses that occur every year. A sort of indicator of the success and well-being of their kind.
I did not stay long in Highgarden with my comrades. There was no branch of the Iron Bank in the castle, and it was dangerous to remain with such money on hand, even in the calm Reach. Having quickly poured the coins into a chest knocked together by Piper and upholstered with iron by me, we hit the road. It was 120 miles to Oldtown and almost a week of leisurely travel.
The Citadel and all its knowledge was waiting for us.