The next morning, Arthur stood on the balcony outside his chambers, stretching his limbs. The sun was not yet fierce, and its warmth made him feel completely at ease—a relaxation he had never felt in Braavos.
From the balcony, Arthur had a clear view of the training yard, watching how the old Master-at-Arms, Ser Clegg, trained the men of Starfall.
Ser Clegg had divided the yard into several sections based on age and skill.
The youngest pages focused on basic physical conditioning to build their strength: running, climbing, throwing short wooden javelins, and hauling stones and logs.
The older squires and guardsmen practiced with blunted swords against wooden dummies, or sparred with wood and blunted steel, drilling their cuts, thrusts, and parries.
The most advanced group—those showing promise and aptitude for horsemanship—watched a fully armored knight demonstrate the art of tilting at rings and quintains with a lance.
Ser Clegg stood by, gesturing and explaining the finer points of technique.
Arthur had to admit that ancient houses truly knew their business. This progressive, tiered system of training was effective.
After watching for a while, Arthur followed a servant to the dining hall for the morning meal.
It was a small, private dining room in the main keep. Only Allyria, her nephew Edric, and the Maester were present.
The meal consisted of cold soup spiced with saffron, nut-bread, and the Maester's favorite gull eggs sprinkled with chili powder.
Arthur cut a slice of nut-bread and asked, "Aunt Allyria, did you like my gift?"
"I loved it. I have never seen anyone give a whole cask of perfume as a gift before." Allyria's face beamed with a smile. "And the saffron and spices you had the wagon bring up last night... those must have cost a fortune in Golden Dragons. Arthur, where did you get so much coin?"
"That is why it took me two years to return." Arthur placed a finely crafted toy knight in front of Edric. "I established quite a business in Braavos. I suppose you could say I have some means now."
Arthur then recounted his experiences in Braavos, carefully selecting details suitable for the table: his shipping ventures, the smithy he managed, and the sights and customs of the Free City.
Edric was fascinated by the strange sights of Braavos. "Is the Titan truly bigger than the Palestone Sword Tower? And the Menagerie—do they really have every animal in the world?"
Allyria was more interested in the Sealord's masquerade balls, the performances at the harvest feasts, the dances, and the food. When talk turned to dancing, she even stood up to demonstrate a few steps for Arthur.
Maester Oswell listened intently throughout, occasionally asking Arthur specific questions about how he managed his businesses.
Having assisted three generations of Lords in governing Starfall, he knew well the difficulties of rule and management. Gathering a group of people was hard enough; getting them to obediently complete a task was harder still; ruining everything, however, was easy.
Over his many years, he had seen too many failures and cleaned up too many messes.
His long experience made it hard for him to believe that a boy of barely ten-and-something could go to a strange land and, in a year and a half, build something significant enough to earn an invitation from the Sealord himself.
At first, he suspected Arthur was boasting.
But as he listened to Arthur's casual remarks on personnel management, profit distribution, and strategic planning, the Maester had to admit: Arthur wasn't exaggerating. In fact, in some areas, he was likely being modest.
This reminded the Maester of what Lord Eddard Stark had said about Arthur's father when he returned Dawn to Starfall.
My brother Brandon had the Wolf's blood. The Northmen called him a wild wolf, a born leader. I was never his equal.
"Lord Eddard Stark, did you teach this child to keep his honor and act with justice as you do?" The Maester felt his frailty growing, and prayed silently in his heart, "A wild wolf, a born leader... May the Seven preserve us, I hope this is a good thing..."
Arthur, unaware of the Maester's thoughts, finished his breakfast. He had intended to go to the yard to spar with Ser Clegg, but Edric clung to him, begging him to join his lessons with the Maester.
Allyria chimed in, telling him that Edric had always been lonely and shy, resistant to strangers. She hoped Arthur could spend more time with him to help bring him out of his shell.
Arthur couldn't refuse Allyria, so he accepted the task of sitting in on the lessons.
The Maester's curriculum for Edric focused on heraldry, reading, and courtly etiquette, using historical tales to teach moral virtues.
For Arthur, whose worldview was already mature, this was rather dull. He sat to the side, idly flipping through a heavy tome on the lineage of the Great Houses.
Occasionally, the Maester would ask Arthur a question about heraldry, house words, or laws. None of it stumped him; he answered effortlessly.
Seeing that Arthur knew his material, the Maester left him alone and focused his attention on Edric.
When the lessons ended and Edric was sent to his room for a midday nap, Maester Oswell spoke to Arthur again, asking for assistance back to the Maester's Tower.
As they crossed the covered bridge, the Maester, leaning on Arthur's arm, suddenly asked, "Who is the Maester at Winterfell now?"
"Maester Luwin."
"Luwin?" A flicker of memory passed through Maester Oswell's cloudy eyes. "Does his chain include a link of black Valyrian steel?"
"It does," Arthur nodded. "You know him, Maester?"
"Every Maester studies at the Citadel to forge his chain. I met him there." Oswell explained as they walked. "I had already forged my chain and was waiting for an assignment, while Luwin was just an acolyte."
"Valyrian steel in a Maester's chain signifies knowledge of the higher mysteries—magic." Oswell showed Arthur his own chain, which bore links of seven or eight different metals representing various fields of study.
"I once advised him not to study the higher mysteries. The Citadel frowns upon it. But he was stubborn. I did not think he would actually succeed."
Arthur looked closely at Oswell's chain; indeed, there was no Valyrian steel link.
"Perhaps Maester Luwin was stubborn in his youth," Arthur said as he helped the old man to the end of the bridge connecting the main keep to the tower. "But in my eyes, he is a kind, wise, and respectable old man. He always offers my uncle loyal and sage counsel."
The Maester withdrew his arm, took a key from his robe, and unlocked his door. "He... they have taught you well."
"Maester, I have a question for you," Arthur followed him inside.
"Just as you said, a Maester proves his knowledge in a field by forging a link in his chain," Arthur began. "Then... how does a bastard, knowing he can keep his honor and never commit treachery, convince others that he is honorable and trustworthy?"
The Maester sank into his chair, fixing his cloudy eyes on Arthur without speaking.
Just as Arthur wondered if the old man hadn't heard him and prepared to repeat the question, the Maester spoke.
"What did Lord Eddard Stark and Maester Luwin tell you?"
Arthur: "I never discussed this with them."
Maester: "And your own thoughts?"
Arthur's expression was firm. "To wield Dawn and become the new Sword of the Morning!"
"A fine ambition," the Maester smiled faintly. "Every Sword of the Morning was a great knight who kept his vows and held to high moral character. Your uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, was an undisputed legend."
Then the Maester's tone shifted. "But you do not bear the name Dayne. As far as I know, you do not keep the Faith of the Seven. You are not a Knight, nor even a squire. How then can you wield Dawn and become the Sword of the Morning?"
Arthur frowned. "Maester, is there truly no possibility for me?"
"The Citadel frowns upon the study of magic, yet Maester Luwin successfully forged a link of Valyrian steel." Oswell said meaningfully. "Arthur, nothing in this world is absolute. Perhaps you would care to hear my counsel?"
Arthur looked at the old man before him. "I would be grateful, Maester Oswell."