Chapter 81

Immediately as the trumpets sounded, I was engaged by Lord Alyn Harte, who wasted no time in charging me along with his brother, Ser Elwood Harte. Unfortunately Ser Oswell Cressey and Lord Olyvar Mallery were occupied by Ser Loras Tyrell and Lord Randyll Tarly and unable to distract the Hartes. Fortunately for me, as they charged, Ser Narbert Grandison charged Ser Elwood with a cry of 'Foul!', forcing the younger Harte brother to face him instead of double-teaming me with his brother. I had no idea if that was chivalry in action or if Ser Narbert simply wanted me for himself, but I found that I couldn't much care at the moment. As I ducked the cut of Lord Harte's tourney blade, I decided that Ser Narbert's intentions were a Future Ricasso problem. Immediately, I came up with a wrestling move, attempting to shove Lord Harte onto his arse, but he interposed his shield and stood firm.

"Upjumped half-foreign Bastard! I'll show you how a trueborn Lord of Westeros handles problems!" Growled Lord Hart.

He bashed out with his Shield, shoving me back, the heels of my boots creating furrows in the dirt of the arena floor. That shield bash was likely intended to open me up for a strike of his tourney sword, but Lord Harte was clearly unfamiliar with Water Dancing. As his blade came in, I used the momentum of the shove to tumble backward into a reverse somersault, dodging the blade and coming up in a crouch which I turned into a lunge aimed at his armpit. Lord Harte had overextended and my blunted blade struck true. Unfortunately, as a tournay blade, the killing stroke very much wasn't, though I suspected a bruise was forming there from the awkward motion of Lord Harte's sword arm as he stumbled away.

"And that, my Lord, is how a water dancer deals with a trueborn Westerosi Lord." I grinned cheekily from behind my mail aventail.

With an enraged shout, Lord Harte came in again with his tourney blade. The rage and soreness in his armpit were slowing his strikes and rendering them sloppy, however. I dodged away from the first two, parried the third, and kicked out with my right leg. My boot found the side of his leading leg's knee, the mail chausses not truely doing much to blunt the blow and the steel poleyn oriented toward protecting the front of the knee. Lord Harte was fairly lightly armored for this. A plate cuirass with tassets and pauldrons over mail. The only bits of plate covering his extremeties were the steel poelyns, couters, sabatons, and vambraces. He was likely counting on his kite shield to protects him further, but that only worked when he wasn't attacking sloppily in a rage.

Accordingly, my kick struck his knee where it was minimally armored and suddenly the weight of his lunging cut had no support. Lord Harte tumbled to the dirt of the Arena Floor as I positioned my blunted tourney blade right near the visor of his helm. Blunted or no, if I slid it in, he was going to lose the eye. Snarling, but ultimately impotent, Lord Alyn Harte was forced to yield, limping off the field with the aid of a Tourney Attendant. I turned to see his brother, Ser Elwood, holding his own against the six foot tall, black steel-clad, frame of Ser Narbert Grandison. I wasn't about to interrupt their duel, so turned to look for another target.

I found one in the form of Ser Kennos of Kayce, who was guarding Ser Stafford Lannister's rear as he dueled with a Fossoway Cousin. I nodded at Ser Kennos and he nodded back at me. Then I charged, striking out in a colpo fendente cut, an arcing slash from teeth to knee. Ser Kennos ducked aside from the savage cut and parried my follow-on tondo cut, horizontally from right to left. What he didn't parry was the guard of my tourney blade that I punched into his mail aventail. The mail face covering did little to stop the blunt force of the blow and Ser Kennos was sent reeling. I dodged the wild, spoiling cut of his blunted bastard sword and came up inside his broken guard with a shove. Ser Kennos fell arse over teakettle into the dirt and found my blade positioned right in front of his eye.

"Well struck, I yield!" Laughed Ser Kennos.

A Tourney Attendant escorted him off the field and I charged in at Ser Stafford Lannister's rear. A kick to the back of the knee had him down on one knee, as the Fossoway cousin backed off from their duel to let me have this one. Ser Stafford panicked and shouted out as he went down, trying to throw an elbow strike at me with his sword-hand's elbow but only succeeding in presenting me his sword-hand. I cut out at it, any real damage was blocked by the metal of his gauntlet, but the force of the cut knocked his blade out of his hand. A punch with the guard of my blade to the back of his helm sent him sprawling face-first into the dirt with a squawk and my tourney blade on his neck forced him to yield.

No sooner was he off the field than the Fossoway Cousin charged me, swinging his blunted tourney greatsword in arcing swings that forced me to dodge instead of parry. Had I attempted to parry, no doubt my water dancing blade would have snapped in half. After the third dodge, the Fossoway Cousin struck out with a gauntleted hand, smashing into my aventail, splitting my lip and sending me staggering away in a mimicry of what I'd done to Ser Kennos. Unlike Ser Kennos, it didn't lead to my end, as I tumbled away from the follow-on cut using the momentum of the punch to aid me. I came up to my feet in time to sidestep the two-handed thrust aimed at me and tripped the Fossoway Cousin with a wrestling leg-sweep. He fell and soon yielded.

"Well done. Before you exit, might I have your name Ser?" I questioned.

"Ser Bryan Fossoway." Nodded the Fossoway Cousin. Then he was escorted off the field.

Looking around to see who was left, I noted with glee that Ser Elwood Harte had seemingly been vanquished by Ser Narbert Grandison, who was currently locked in a duel with Lord Arstan Selmy. Meanwhile, the Ghiscari Legionary and Qohorik Mercenary were working together to face the Hound and at least were managing to stalemate him. Lord Dagos Manwoody had just knocked out Lord Sebaston Farman, while Ser Harras Harlaw had cut a bloody swathe through the Riverlands contingent, taking out Hendry Bracken, Brynden Blackwood, and Patrek Mallistet and was busily dismantling Black Walder Frey. Thoros of Myr and his blazing sword had just forced the Tudbury and Hogg off the field and was currently attempting to do likewise to Smalljon Umber. Ser Aron Santagar was busily duelling Ser Andar Royce while Ser Lyn Corbray and Eddard Karstark were facing off.

Then there was a shout as Ser Meryn Trant struck down Lord Randyll Tarly while Ser Loras was busy finishing Ser Myles Manwoody, and forced him to yield. He locked eyes with me and then charged me, a growl eminating from behind his white-enameled helm. I was forced to duck and weave away from the striking bastard sword, trying to stay one step ahead of the Kingsguard. I ducked an arcing horizontal cut, sidesteped a vertical overhand slash, and tumbled away from a lunging diagonal cut. Ser Meryn was not to be deterred and he lashed out with his white-enameled sabaton, clipping me in the side mid-tumble. Fortunately, my armor robbed the blow of most of its power, but I was still knocked out of my tumble and sent sprawling. The ache in my side also suggested a bruise forming. It was likely that kick would have cracked more than one rib on an unarmored man.

Immediately, I had to scrabble to my feet to avoid a pommel strike to the helmet aiming to knock me unconscious. I managed, barely to dodge and riposted with a cut of my own, aiming for the gap between cuisse and greave, the side of the knee away from the front-facing poleyn where only chain would be. My blow struck, staggering Ser Meryn and allowing me to follow that up with a leg-sweep, knocking Ser Meryn down. As he fell, Ser Meryn kicked out at me, knocking me down as well. We began to grapple, both pulling tourney daggers as we wrestled. He was strong, and clearly had experience, but his technique wasn't the best. He still almost managed to force me to tap to an arm lock before I reversed the hold and got him into a Kimura lock using jiu-jitsu knowledge from Earth.

He couldn't escape from the unfamiliar hold and moved to attempt to heft me up to slam me back down using his strength. I refused to let that happen and applied more pressure to my hold. There was a cracking noise as his arm broke and Ser Meryn called out that he yielded, being helped to a Maester by a Tourney Attendant and shooting me venomous looks as he left the field. I snatched up my fallen tourney blade and found my next target. Lord Dagos Manwoody had finished both Lord Farman and Ser Andar Royce and was busily dueling Ser Aron Santagar. I rushed to aid Ser Aron, who had a serious reach disadvantage between his sword and Lord Dagos' spear.

I charged Lord Dagos from the side, striking out for the back of his knee in a lunge. The blow caused Lord Dagos to fumble his thrust and Ser Aron backed away only to be attacked by the Hound. Lord Dagos spun around on one knee to attempt to sweep my legs out from under me with the haft of his spear only for me to jump up over the haft, land, and stomp hard on the spear haft. Between the force of my stomp and the angle of the ground, Lord Dagos' spear snapped in two and I pointed my blade at his visor. He let out a laugh as I grinned back at him.

"I suppose you would have trained to fight Spearmen, being Dornish. Very well, I yield." Chuckled Lord Dagos. He left the field, escorted by a Tourney Attendant as I prepared to face the Hound alongside Ser Aron.

Unfortunately, before I could help Ser Aron out, Thoros of Myr came charging in, blade alight and forcing the Hound to yield thanks to his fear of Fire. Looking around once more, I saw the field had thinned substantially. Ser Harras Harlaw was facing off against Loras Tyrell, Ser Narbert Grandison had just finished off Ser Lyn Corbray, Ser Aron and Thoros were fighting, and then there was me. Ser Narbert saw this and raised his blade in salute. I saluted back, and then we charged. I was forced to duck a powerful strike that would have folded me in half around Ser Narbert's Greatsword and came in with a horizontal tondo cut at the side of his knee. Ser Narbert was wise to the attempt and lifted his leg enough that my blade sailed under his foot before kicking out at my head. His black steel Sabaton caught me in the side of my helmet and sent me sprawling, ears ringing from the blow.

"You know, I wanted the glory of defeating you myself. Truely this will be an honor to write about. You should yield." Mused Ser Narbert as he stalked forward.

"I'm not done in just yet, Ser Narbert." I huffed, getting to my hands and knees.

"Very well. I did offer." Nodded Ser Narbert.

Thinking quickly, I palmed a handful of dirt from the Arena floor with my off hand. Ser Narbert started to raise his greatsword for a blow that would put my lights out. As the blow descended, I tossed my collected dirt into the visor of Ser Narbert's helm, blinding him before surging up to put everything I had into a Shoulder Tackle. Ser Narbert, reeling from the dirt, was bowled over and I pulled my tourney dagger out and positioned it between gorget and helm as I bore down on him from the mount position. He managed to clear his visor just in time to see he'd lost.

"Dirty." Muttered Ser Narbert.

"Victory often is. Do you yield?" I queried.

"Aye. Very well." Huffed Ser Narbert.

As he left the field, escorted away by a Tourney Attendant, I scooped up my tourney blade from the dirt and stood up. I found that it was down to Thoros of Myr, Ser Harras Harlaw, and myself. Thoros had Ser Harras on the backfoot with his flaming sword and had just managed to trip him up. Thete would never be a better time to strike. So that's what I did, charging Thoros from the side, I struck out at his blade. The metal of Thoros' sword, weakened from being aflame for so long, shattered. Thoros saw this, held up his hands, and yielded.

"I realize my limitations." He chuckled before being escortex off the field by a Tourney Attendant. Ser Harras tried to get to his feet to finish the melee, but couldn't stand, too exhausted to do so. With a sigh, he removed his helm and looked up at me from his seat on the arena floor.

"Shite. Lord Seawynd, it appears I'm through. I'll have to settle for second place, it seems. I yield." He grinned.

"Ser Harras, you did well. I accept your surrender." I nodded, helping him up. And with that, the Melee was over, another victory for me. That made three events my group had won, almost sweeping the Hand's Tourney.

Unfortunately, I very much doubted we'd take the Joust as well. . .

XXXX

AN: So that's the end of the Melee and with it, day one of the Hand's Tourney. The Seawynd contingent took all three events on the first day, you can bet people will be talking about that for a while.

The joust is on day two, but unfortunately, there's going to be too many skilled combatants for Ricasso or any of his sworn men to take that too. Not with Ser Barristan on the field. Of course, just so long as they beat the Hartes, Ricasso doesn't care too much.

At any rate, the next chapter will be the feast between days one and two of the Hand's Tourney.

Stay tuned. . .