Untitled Project 1

“To the father, I pray for leniency for my misdeeds. To the Warrior, I pray that my sword arm be swift and my shield arm firm. To the Crone, I pray for wisdom to not be outsmarted by my opponents. To the maiden, I pray that I live long enough to find love. To the Smith, I pray my sword remain sharp and my shield strong. To the mother, I pray for mercy for my enemies for I shall give them none. To the Stranger, I pray for a swift welcome home if it is to be my time” I mumbled the prayer to myself as my squire worked around me to place the armour on my person. It was an old dance between the two of us at this point. The small Westerling boy was some cousin of a cousin of the House’s Lord and so in the perfect position to act as the aid to a son of a brother of the Lord Paramount of the entire Westerlands.

“Are we going to die, Ser Tybur?” The little boy asked as he fastened the breastplate on its straps.

“Where did you get such a silly idea from?” I asked him.

“You’ve said your prayer five times now, Ser. That’s four more than usual”

“Worry not, Oliver. I just feel very pious today so I’ll pray to the seven gods seven times as the Septons do” I said in reply, trying to quell his concerns, even as I internally answered his original question in the affirmative. Yes, we were going to die. Lord Jaime was going to lead us to death, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was a Lannister, yes. But a Lesser Lannister, as Gwain loved to call those of us who did not have the fortune to have sprung from the legs of the late Great Lady Joanna Lannister. I could not tell the Firstborn of Lord Tywin that he was leading us into folly.

All I could do was offer my counsel when asked, ands I had not been asked. I was one Knight among hundreds in this camp alone. Sure, I had a better sword arm than most, but Ser Jaime Lannister was a Knight of the Kingsguard before even turning eight and ten. I would not presume to be even close to his level.

“Keep close to me, Oliver” I said to him as I headed out of the tent that had been granted to me and moved to my horse. Lord Jaime had gotten it into his head that he needed to sally into the woods in full force to crush the Tully men that hunted our outriders and attacked our supplies before retreating. It was a trap. A very obvious trap to one such as me but I could scream it from now till the Seven descended upon the Earth and no one would listen. I allowed Oliver to saddle my horse before he saddled his and we marched them down to where Lord Jaime was gathering his men.

“Cousin Tybur”, he called out, shocking and stunning me in one. How did he know my name? I shook it off as I walked towards him and answered,

“Lord Jaime”.

“None of that. Call me Cousin. I want you to ride by my side today” He said.

“Yes, Lord Jaime” I replied instantly before mirroring his movements and climbing onto my horse with a single quick movement. Oliver did the same as my side. I had not expected the rotation to ever get to my turn, but for every day that we had ridden, Lord Jaime had been sure to have a different Lord to his side. Considering I had nothing more than a manse or two in Lannisport and some fair amount of gold to my name, I could not see the point in carrying me along with such a pointless tradition. He probably thought it was helping to endear him to the Lords and earn their loyalty, but the entire effort was pointless. Lord Tywin had secured the loyalty of every house in the Westerlands even before Jaime had been born. When Castamere and Tarbeck Hall fell, so did every drop of ambition in his baneermen.

I lived in the Westerlands all my life, so I had first hand experience with the kind of loyalty and fear Tywin inspired. Still I rode along with Lord Jaime right into the belly of the beast. We entered the Whispering Woods with some measure of a plan. He had a concentric circle of scouts moving around our position and searching out the enemy while making sure we didn’t end up being ambushed ourselves. It was a good plan. A good enough plan that I began to doubt my doubts.

I began to relax, to sit easy along my horse and laugh at the jokes Jaime and the Strongboar shared. Of course, it was too good to be true. I barely even noticed when we arrived at the centre of the Valley that was the Whispering Wood. I only noticed when I heard the first arrow fly by. It flew good and true, passing by me with a whispered whoosh before stabbing into the throat of the man behind me. Red cloak marked him as a Lannister man.

“Ambush” I screamed at the top of my voice, but I knew I was not the first man to do so. More arrows came at us. From all corners. I marshalled my shield about and moved it to block the few that were aimed at my horse’s neck while allowing the others splash uselessly against my armour. By my side, Oliver’s shield went up in a similar manner. I watched an arrow shatter against his breastplate and thanked the Crone for giving me the wisdom to armour him in the finest steel the Westerlands could offer from my own pocket.

I leaned backwards, allowing another arrow to slam into my helm and not the hole that allowed me to see. “They’re in the trees” One voice shouted. “No shit” I shouted back before spurring my horse forwards and dashing into the heavily forested area. Oliver followed closely by my side as we cut down two hidden archers in quick succession. The sound of horns blowing marked the next phase of the battle as I realised something. It wasn’t just archers. They were surrounded. Men to every corner.

“To me. To me” Lord Jaime was screaming as he lifted his blade up. He drew the attention of ever Westerlander man as they formed up, what remained of them at least. Jaime scabbared his sword and lifted his lance before pointing it at one of the groups of Northmen. I could make out the Snarling direwolf Banner. Robb Stark then. I looked at the numbers of men around us, the men we had, the group surrounding the Stark and came to a stark realisation. Jaime is fucking suicidal.

I took a deep breath in and another out. Warrior guide my sword.

I lifted my lance up and gestured to Oliver to follow my lead. Jaime nodded in my direction, and I nodded back while making my decision.

“Hear me Roar” Jaime screamed and I joined the roar as we rode straight for the Direwolf. I lost sight of everything else but the wall of Northmen. Jaime was the first to hit their line and it showed. He cut through them like Valyrian steel through mutton. I rode along on the far edge of the charge, and at the very last second, I adjusted the angle of my charge to go straight instead of cut towrards the Direwolf banner. The Frey in front of me died on my Lance in seconds, and I used the body and the lance itself to ram into the man behind him. I dropped it after that, too heavy to be of use, and unsheathed my blade.

The first man that tried to stop me gained a second smile right below his first as my blade cut through his neck. Another from the side fell to Oliver’s blade, but the second man he engaged disarmed him in a quick move. I slapped the back of his horse, forcing it to lurch suddenly as he avoided death by a millimetre. His horse died in that second as I clashed with the man that had almost killed my squire. Our blades clashed once, twice, and on the third time, I kicked at his horse. He moved backwards to dodge it and the Knight with the Frey coat of arms on his breastplate breathed his last as my blade went through his visor.

Another two men on foot tried to stop me but I killed the both of them in the same swing before I reached down and stretched a hand out to help Oliver on to my horse and then I began to ride. A man with a roaring giant on his shield tried to stand in my eway, but I rode over him without hesitation. In a breath or two, we were free, my squire and I.

I chanced a look behind me and noticed the circle closing around where Jaime was. I wished him the best of luck as I rode off and rode hard.

A/N; This is a new thing. I get like a million muses at a time so i just felt like it might be best to try uploading these as a series. I'll call them "Untitled Projects" for now.