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Game of Thrones: Rune Bastard
Game of Thrones Wizard Dothraki
Game of Thrones: Knights Life
King's Landing, the Old Gate.
A strange procession of knights cut through the city's noise like a blade. They carried the dust of the road and a killing aura that made people step back. That kind of presence only came from real battle, nothing like the gold cloaks could manage.
The Trident banner men held high the golden field with the black bat. Some lances carried heads coated in black pitch, grim trophies that turned heads.
"Lord Arthur Whent, heir to Harrenhal and Earl of Whitewalls, arrives!" big Rolly in black armor bellowed. The lad had a voice to match his size. Now he served as Arthur's standard-bearer.
In the crowd Arthur emerged in his yellow cloak and black plate, radiating quiet authority. He rode his yellow horse straight through the gate.
"Make way! Make way!" a gold cloak captain shouted, clearing the path fast.
"That's Arthur Whent, the Dark Knight! So handsome."
"I heard he's the Bloodthirsty Bat. Barely older than Bloodthirsty Ben."
"Comes from Harrenhal. Think he knows sorcery?"
"Don't be stupid. Lord Whent's a hero of the Seven Kingdoms. He killed the kraken's sons."
After he passed, the citizens and gold cloaks kept whispering.
Arthur rode straight to the Red Keep with his trophies.
Red Keep guards led him straight to the Throne Room. Today Robert hadn't gone hunting, drinking, or whoring, so he sat in his golden robe and stag crown with Jon Arryn and Littlefinger to receive him.
"These the kraken heads?" Robert asked as the Kingsguard carried forward Rodrik's and Maron's.
"Yes, Your Grace," Arthur knelt. "I offer them to you and Lord Jason as proof of our loyalty. We killed two of the kraken's sons outside Seagard, cut down Ser Haras Harlaw, and took many longship captains with them."
"Good lad!" Robert laughed, already thickening around the middle but still strong. "You earned the lion's share. Lord Jason comes second. I'll reward you both properly. Master of Coin!"
"I'm here, Your Grace," Littlefinger said with his oily smile.
"Count every copper and pay my heroes their gold dragons," Robert ordered.
"As you command, Your Grace," Littlefinger bowed. "Lord Arthur and Lord Jason will be well satisfied."
"I have one more honor for you," Robert said. "In this rebellion you'll lead the Riverlands vanguard."
Robert had jumped over Hoster and named Arthur the front-line commander. His standing now matched Randyll Tarly's. The King's word was law.
"Thank you, Your Grace. I've long wanted to split Balon open and lay his head at your feet," Arthur said.
"Sweet tongue, cruel hands," Littlefinger thought. The man would never be a proper knight. Gold and cunning were his only weapons.
Littlefinger hadn't expected to meet his own kind so soon in King's Landing. The little bat spoke honey but had climbed through chaos, full of ambition. Littlefinger wouldn't expose him. He'd praise him instead. More men like this meant more chaos.
"A young man of great promise and deep cunning," Jon Arryn thought. "Pity he's not one of ours."
Robert loved his pleasures and warriors like this one. Arthur spoke like honey yet fought like a lion. Given time he'd push House Tully aside completely. But the King was in high spirits and old Arryn had no heart to interfere. He could only hope his feeling was wrong. This boy was a true knight, not a schemer.
"No need," Robert waved. "Balon's mine. My hammer still works fine."
"Take these heads. When I land on the Iron Islands I'll show the fool the price of his arrogance." Robert ordered the Kingsguard to secure the trophies.
"If there's nothing else, you may go," Jon Arryn said. "Wait at Harrenhal or here until the royal army marches down the Kingsroad to Seagard."
Stark's host moving south and the royal fleet deploying would take time. The war would drag on. No rush.
"As you command, Your Grace, my lord Hand." Arthur rose and left. He had no desire to linger in the Red Keep.
"Balon really is mad," Jon Arryn sighed at the heads.
He had watched his own heir die on the battlefield. At least now he watched other young men.
"Looks like he wants a beating," Robert snorted.
The Greyjoy rebellion reeked of farce, but knowing Balon it made sense. First rebellion killed his father. Second killed his sons. The third would kill him. The man had no real strategy. Grab what he could, run when hit hard, then hit the next soft target. The Reach beat him so he turned on the Westerlands and Riverlands. After failing there he would try the North. Always picking the weakest.
Balon stirred trouble and Robert would light a candle for him. Balon had become Robert's stepping stone, drawing every eye in the Seven Kingdoms and raising the King's prestige.
After leaving the Red Keep, Arthur rode straight to Steel Street. He had a little surprise for Tobho.
"Big business just walked in!" Arthur entered the forge beaming.
"Lord Arthur!" Tobho lit up. His best client had returned. Arthur's fame kept growing. A man like this did wonders for business.
"I need you to reforge a Valyrian steel sword for me," Arthur said. "Interested?"
"I've dreamed of it!" Tobho's voice trembled. "I love it."
Valyrian steel swords were so rare there was hardly room to show off skill.
"Now you have one." Arthur drew Nightfall. "Reforge this properly. From now on it won't be Nightfall. It'll be Dark Messenger."
"A real Valyrian steel sword!" Tobho sucked in a breath. This young master must be blessed by the Warrior himself.
"Can you make it look like this?" Arthur handed over his sketch. The blade and point stayed the same, but the crossguard became a black bat spreading its leathery wings. The blade wasn't wide yet. If he got another sword someday he could make a two-handed Dark Messenger.
"Is it difficult?" Arthur asked.
Tobho laughed and looked at Nightfall with reverence. "Lord Arthur, you came to the right man. We're partners. Valyrian steel is stubborn, but you're only asking me to change the crossguard. That's easy enough."
"Perfect. From now on, no more Nightfall. Only Dark Messenger!" Arthur was pleased.
"Between us, this is the first time in years I've had the honor of reforging a Valyrian steel sword. You're a miracle worker," Tobho said excitedly. So many had been lost. Each one priceless, and fewer still moved openly.
"This sword came from war and will return to war," Arthur said.
"I understand," Tobho nodded. "Serving this blade is the highest honor. Don't worry—I'll put it first. My apprentices can handle the armor. But you'll have to wait."
"We can wait outside," Arthur said.
Tobho called in his best men, though only he knew the core runes and steps.
Arthur waited a long time before Tobho returned with the oiled cloth.
When he unwrapped it, the newborn Dark Messenger radiated power. The old crossguard had become a huge black bat, its eyes carved from obsidian. The great bat spread its wings, edged in gleaming gold.
"I turned those gilded kraken tentacles into the bat's wing borders," Tobho explained. "If you don't like it I can change it."
"No need. It's perfect," Arthur said, satisfied.