Chapter 6: ch 6
I barely touched Horse with my heels and he began moving. I didn't have my hands on the reins to lead him, but he knew where to go. We had been doing the same drill all day.
We broke into the clearing, and I waited until I could see the target. As soon as I saw the straw man strung up on a post, I drew an arrow out of the quiver on my back and nocked it. It took me under a second to line the target up in my sight, and I loosed the arrow. I knew exactly where it would hit, even if Horse and I passed into the next tree line before I saw confirmation.
I shifted my body slightly, and Horse turned right as I wanted.
Ping!
Skill level up!
Quickdraw Lvl 45: The ability to nock and loose an arrow quickly. Accuracy is 85% of Archery level.
Companion - 'Horse'
Strength - 40
Speed - 60
Stamina - 75
Bond Lvl 90
'Horse' adores you and will obey almost every command. He has learned the way your body moves and will move the direction you wish before you can command it.
I couldn't help but smile at the progress I had made recently. What was more impressive, and possibly more useful, was how far he had gotten Horse. Horse was now a top tier mount, and as I continued to train him, he would become infinitely more valuable.
As we galloped back around to the fields, I saw that the arrow I had shot was sticking straight out of the head of the human shaped sack of hay, along with thirty others in varying areas of the straw man.
I reached down and ran my hand down the neck of Horse.
At that moment, I realized that I could not keep calling my horse Horse. While it was funny, and easy to remember, Horse had earned a new name.
"What do you think of a new name hmm?" I asked Horse.
He whipped his head slightly and pawed at the ground. I took that as an agreement. But what to call him…
He wasn't very big, for a horse, and as much as I tried with different diets, the game wouldn't allow him to grow past his genetics, as it did for me. Maybe a character from my past life? A short one preferably.
Horse was also very courageous, as he had proven by riding down the bandits on the road to Harrenhall. He could also be a bit mean, if the stable boy of Harrenhal was to be believed.
A lightbulb went off in my head.
"What about Gimli?" I asked, finding what I thought to be a perfect name.
The newly named Gimli didn't give me any indication that he liked or disliked the name, he just bent down and sniffed the grass before grabbing a bite and eating it.
"Sounds good to me." I said as I shrugged my shoulders.
At that same time, I heard what sounded like cheering closer to the campgrounds outside of Harrnehal.
"Someone must have arrived, Gimli. Let's go check it out." I said as I strapped my bow around my torso and went to grab the reins.
Gimli was already moving.
As soon as I passed into the clearing that would allow me to see the main road leading into Harrenhal, I saw who had arrived.
It was easy to discern exactly who it was. The man wore the finest clothes, tailored to fit him exactly. A black gambeson covered his torso and some of his legs. Directly in the center of that gambeson was a red, three headed dragon, just as the show depicted it.
Rhaegar Targaryen, the crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.
His hair was as white as untouched snow, and although I was too far away to make out details, I knew he was a beautiful human being.
Immediately, I stopped Gimli, and I mimicked the knights and people around me by bowing my head low. I probably should have gotten off of my horse and bowed, but Lords were allowed some leeway.
I stayed that way for a while, before I finally decided to look up.
The Prince led his party from his horse, but there were two kingsguard not ten feet from him riding on either side of his horse. They kept a close eye on anyone who got too close. Directly behind the Prince and the Kingsguard was a burly red haired man that sat tall on his horse. Jon Connington, no doubt.
There was a carriage behind him, no doubt carrying his wife and possibly other Dornish Royalty. A thousand troops that bore the finest armor and the Targaryen banner on their chest surrounded it as it pulled into the castle.
"Harrenhal is about to get interesting."
I entered the dining hall, following behind the Blackfish. I was wearing a finely made dark green tunic and black trousers. Unfortunately, I did not have my sword on me, and if Brynden had his way, I wouldn't have had a dagger hidden on my ankle also.
I knew nothing was going to happen, but paranoia is a bitch, just ask King Aerys.
Brynden Tully was not a man to be intimidated by royalty, apparently. Neither was he the one to pander to them because we did not go say hello to the Prince. My eyes found Prince Rhaegar immediately. It was easy, considering the amount of people huddled around his table. And his white hair drew my eye immediately.
I decided not to stare at the man who would plunge the realm into civil war, and instead focused on where we were headed.
What I saw was not what I expected. At Hoster Tully's table sat Edmure Tully, Catelyn Tully, and Lysa Tully. That was not abnormal. But there were two more Lords and many more important people at his table that had been the night before.
Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon, Eddard Stark, Brandon Stark, and Lyanna Stark were all sitting down and enjoying each other's company.
"Did everyone arrive at once?" I asked as we walked towards our table.
"Lord Arryn, Lord Baratheon, and Eddard Stark arrived this morning while you were with Red. Eddard's brother, whom you know intimately, and his sister, Lyanna, were in the Prince's party. Apparently, they met on the road." Brynden answered before he stopped in the middle of the dining hall.
The Blackfish grabbed my neck and brought me close to whisper in my ear. "Do not antagonize the Stark heir, do you understand?" He asked, in a very serious voice. One that most teenagers would quiver at.
I nodded to him and slightly pushed him off of me. "I don't intend to do anything other than befriend him." I said as I pushed past the Blackfish and moved to our table.
As soon as I pushed past him, Brandon Stark himself, the man who gave me the scar on my chest, met my eye. It took him a moment to recognize me, as I was now much taller and broader than I was when I dueled him. When he finally did recognize me, he stood up and his face changed.
I was reminded of why they called him "The Wild Wolf". His eyes immediately gained this glint that shone with the prospect of violence.
Brandon stood about six foot three, and although he was only nineteen, he was thick with muscle from years of martial training. His black hair fell down to his shoulders in a sense of orderliness. His eyebrows were bushy, but not ugly, and he had a beard that wasn't closely trimmed, but wasn't a full on mountain man either.
The books were right, Brandon Stark was much more handsome than his younger brother Eddard.
I held a hand up to him peacefully, to show that I wasn't there to challenge him. He didn't outwardly react, until I got closer to the table.
"Have you come to challenge me for my betrothed again, boy?" Brandon asked with a cocky smirk.
"No, no I learned my lesson last time." I said as I closed the distance between us. Although I have continued to grow to around five foot eight, Brandon still towered over me.
Brandon tilted his head at me. "Then why are you here?" Brandon asked as he leaned over the table towards me.
"He is still my ward." Hoster Tully spoke up from his position at the head of the table, sending Brandon a look that told him to sit down and behave.
"And he is my squire."
The Blackfish walked around me, proudly displaying his personal sigil on his breast for everyone to see. Everyone at the table looked to Brynden and saw the black trout on his chest. Noone had to ask who he was or what he was doing there.
As I saw immediate respect be given to the man, I couldn't help but want that. I wanted the respect that was given to people based on military merit. Why? I could not answer that, but I wanted it.
"Lord Arryn, you already know my brother Brynden and Petyr. Brynden is Lord Robert Baratheon, and beside him is Lyanna Stark and her brother Eddard Stark. You already know Brandon, yes?"
"My liege." I said as I nodded to the stern Lord Arynn. He nodded back to me before giving Brynden his
The Blackfish didn't answer his brother. Instead, he spoke to Jon Arryn. "It's good to see you again Jon. How are your sons?" Brynden asked.
I tuned out their conversation and looked at Brandon, who continued to stare at me as if I was going to attack him at any moment. Maybe he was hoping I would.
"I was hoping we could put the past behind us." I said as I moved forward to the open seat in front of me. Consequently, it put me almost directly in front of Brandon, and beside the absolute beast of a man child Robert Baratheon.
"Although it wasn't so long ago, I have changed more than you can imagine." I said as I reached and began carefully putting food on my plate.
"It is true." Hoster siad. "Petyr here is not the naive young man he used to be. He's even shown proficiency with the sword." Hoster chimed in before going back to the conversation with the elders at the table.
I ignored that and continued to grab bread, chicken, pork, and just about anything else that could fit on my plate. All of them provided some boost to muscle growth and recovery.
"The North remembers, Littlefinger." Brandon replied as he grabbed his cup of wine and downed it.
I smiled at the nickname, and tried not to let it bother me.
"Littlefinger, eh?" I heard from the behemoth beside me. "Why do they call you Littlefinger?" Robert asked as he handed Brandon the wine to refill his drink.
"I am Lord of an old flint tower on one of the smallest fingers in the Vale." I answered him. "Hence finger part. Little because…"
"Because you're little! Hahahaha." Robert interrupted, suddenly finding the humor in the situation.
His laugh was just as booming as the rumors, and the books used to say. It was also contagious, and I couldn't help but join in. Most of the table began to laugh. I grabbed a cup, and poured a glass of wine before toasting it to the laughing table and drinking a cup.
What was my plan for befriending the future usurper, and the Starks?
Get piss drunk with them obviously.
Ping!
New Skill!
Hammer Throwing lvl 3! - Ability to throw a hammer and hit a target.
Maximum of 25 yards - 5% accurate.
An excessive amount of alcohol consumed! Hangover debuff applied!
You are hungover! -10% lvl applied to all skills
My mouth was filled with cotton when I read that prompt and it felt like something was stabbing into my eyeballs.
"What the fuck." I said as I dismissed the screen and tried to make sense of where I was and what was happening.
I was face down in my bed, at least that was a good thing. I flailed my arms around to make sure that it was just me in the bed, and I didn't connect with any flesh. That meant that I hadn't bedded anybody last night. That was good, as it would not be a good look to knock up a Lord's daughter, or their wife.
At that moment, someone took the opportunity to bang on my door, very very loud.
"Petyr!"
That sounded like Brynden, and he sounded pissed. "Yes?" I asked as I looked around for water.
"Get the fuck up, the archery contest is about to start!" Brynden yelled back to me.
"Very funny." I said as I climbed out of my bed and walked to the door. I yanked it open, and ignored the outraged look on his face. "I know that is tomorrow." I said and was about to shut the door on him before sleeping this hangover off.
There was an impact on my nose, and the next thing I knew, I was falling backwards. When I was on my ass and I looked up to him I realized that he had just punched me.
"You've been drinking for two days you fucking idiot. Get dressed!" Brynden roared.
No fucking way. Inventory. I thought.
As soon as my inventory appeared with all the food inside of it, I consumed one. The best thing about this, is that it went straight into my stomach, and the game got rid of the waste almost immediately. Brynden would never know that I ate something.
Ping!
Food consumed! Hangover debuff removed. Bleeding to nose stopped.
Suddenly it was like I could think again and I jumped up.
"Fuck." I said out loud. "How much time do we have?" I asked as I shot around my room getting ready.
"Two men have already shot, you're lucky they're are so many fucking contestants or you'd be disqualified!" Brynden said.
I threw on my newest dark green tunic, belted my sword, and sprinted out the door.
'Thunk'
As it turns out, Brynden was right about the amount of contestants. There were at least two hundred knights that had signed up. And if all of them had paid the fee that I had to, then Lord Whent had basically paid for the prize pool with contestants alone. Hopefully, that meant that there would be a bonus at the end of this entire ordeal.
'Thunk'
"Petyr Baelish!"
I turned to see a fat man holding a sheet of paper. It was my turn apparently. I walked up to the center of the field. There was a circle drawn by some sort of white dye that marked where you were supposed to shoot from.
The way the entire contest was laid out was not as grand as I expected. The fields that I had been practicing on, was also the fields that we were using for the contest apparently. It was actually just a pasture beside the castle walls that was lined with trees on either side.
Towards the back of the contestants, a crowd stood.
Throughout the pasture was a series of targets. A mixture of round targets, and straw men strung up on posts put at different lengths and angles were set up throughout the pasture.
The format was simple. The first round would be four arrows, and you are required to hit at least three targets within a 30 yard radius, marked by a flag in the middle of the field. The second round would be two arrows and you had to hit at least one target between 30 and 60 yards. The third round was where most contests would end, and you were given 1 arrow to hit a target as far as possible. If there was anything after that, they haven't announced it yet.
I grabbed my four arrows from the pile on the ground and set my feet.
I did not waste time. I shot four arrows, using my quickdraw ability, at four strawmen targets. The strawmen targets were all at the 30 yard mark, as they allowed you to showcase accuracy in hitting vital points on a man's body.
When I lowered my bow, the first three arrows had already hit the neck of their target strawman, and shortly after, the last did also. All four targets hit in the neck, a spot in the body that isn't normally armored. All four arrows in the exact same spot on all of the strawmen.
There weren't a lot of people who had shown up to watch the archery competition. Sure, Lord Arynn, Lord Tully, and Prince Rhaegar could be spotted in the heart of the crowd, but there were few women.
Perhaps that was because there was no seating that had been erected for this contest.
A hush ran over the crowd as my last arrow hit it's mark.
A hush that I was very proud of and lasted a full four seconds before someone clapped. Soon the whole crowd clapped for a moment, to which I gave them a short bow.
"Petyr Baelish advances." The fat man with the paper in his hands said.
"Prince Lewyn Martell!"
That name caused me to look. That was the name of one of the Kingsguard protecting Rhaegar. Oberyn Martell's uncle, if my memory served me correctly.
Sure enough, an olive skinned man with flowing hair advanced. It was the first time I had seen the kingsguard without their helmet on since they arrived. I still didn't know the identity of the other Kingsguard, although the sword on the man's waist told me it was Arthur Dayne, the sword of the morning.
Prince Lewyn met my eyes as he stepped into the circle and nodded his head slightly, to which I repeated towards him. He drew the bow back with a strength that his lithe body didn't portray to have.
It didn't take him long to find his target and he let the arrow fly.
It landed right next to my first arrow, in the neck of the strawman. He didn't do it as fast as I did. Instead, he was extremely calm as he drew his next three arrows and landed them right next to every arrow I had shot.
My only competition made itself known, and the crowd knew it. That was why the clapping was even louder this time, even though it wasn't as skillful as my quickly drawn four arrow deadshots.
Lewyn quickly became the crowd favorite with that display. It didn't help that he was Kingsguard, and a Prince. I was just a squire, and a lowly Lord.
All the same, I couldn't help but grin at the prospect of competition.
"Prince Lewyn and Petyr Baelish, second round. Everyone else, thank you for attending." The fat man yelled.
That shocked me a little bit as I walked forward to the middle of the field. There were some men that had hit all four bullseyes. But none of them had hit the farthest targets like Lewyn and I had.
"You have two arrows to hit one target between the red and green flags. Petyr Baelish will be first."
"Good luck, Lord Baelish." A silky smooth voice said behind me. It was the seductive type that the Dornish were so proud of.
I turned to my competitor. "And you, Prince Lewyn." I said as I walked forward and grabbed the two arrows.
I already knew my target, so I nocked and drew the first arrow. I let it fly fairly quickly, but not as quickly as to activate my quickdraw ability. I could have, but I didn't want to risk missing without the skill being maxxed.
The arrow smacked the furthest strawman target, where the right eye socket would be on a helmet.
I drew my second arrow, and loosed it after careful aiming.
The arrow landed right next to it's brother, but on the left eye socket of a helm.
A showing of pure skill.
Another hush, although not as prolonged, fell over the crowd. This time it was Prince Lewyn that clapped and began cheering. The crowd followed.
"A masterful display!" Lewyn said with a smile as he turned to the crowd.
"Thank you." I said as I once again turned to the crowd and bowed for them.
Lewn stepped up and grabbed one arrow, leaving the other on the ground for now. He drew the arrow, and aimed it. Once again I was struck at how still he was able to hold the bow and string. It was like he was carved out of marble as he held the arrow there.
It took Lewyn a while, but eventually he fired the arrow.
'Thunk'
The arrow struck between my two arrows, and slightly below them. If it were a man, and his mouth were open, it would have gone straight through his head.
Lewyn drew his second arrow. He let this one go much faster than the first. It's location was comical. The arrow struck the strawman right between the legs causing the crowd to laugh and clap at another skillful display.
"You're not making it easy, Prince Lewyn." I joked. I said it low enough that only him and I could hear the words.
"Bah, he will call it for you. I took the chance to have some fun." Lewyn answered with a smile as he started to walk back to the Prince and his company. It was obvious to anyone that knew archery that I was more skilled, and had put on a more skilled showing. Although the shot to the groin was funny, it wasn't enough to even tie what I had done by putting an arrow in the eye sockets at 60 yards.
But when you're a Prince of Dorne, and Kingsguard ...well some things can be overlooked.
"Round three! Prince Lewyn and Petyr Baelish."
And on que, just as I predicted, the contest continued. Prince Lewyn stopped in his walk, and turned to the fat man with a slightly angry look on his face. Was the Prince really that noble? Most knights would relish in another opportunity to prove themselves. He seemed happy to lose to a better opponent.
"Come Prince Lewyn." I said, jerking my head. "You'll want to see this." I tried to stop the man from disqualifying, as he looked on the verge of doing. He looked to me, and his angry expression turned to a curious one.
"Very well then." He said.
I nodded and turned to the treeline before whistling a certain tune. Gimli immediately trotted out of the tree line and ran up to me.
"What is the meaning of this?" The fat man asked as he saw the horse approach.
"It is a part of my next shot of course." I said confidently.
"You expect us to believe you can hit a target 90 strides away horseback?" Prince Lewyn said with a tilt to his head.
I reached down and grabbed my arrow before hopping on the back of Gimli. "Just watch." I said as I rode Gimli down the path that led to the fields. The crowd parted as I did and I got many looks of astonishment.
I didn't waste any time boasting or anything like that. I turned Gimli around and he immediately began damn near sprinting. I drew my arrow and kept the tension on it as we neared the center of the fields. I turned my body and forced him to run in the circle drawn on the field.
I took aim and in my peripherals I kept track of the circle. As soon as I passed into it, I loosed the arrow.
As Gimli slowly began stopping, I began to worry. I hadn't actually expected to have to shoot in the middle of a circle while moving, so I didn't practice letting the arrow go at that exact time. I normally just shot when it felt right. I was not confident in how the arrow shot at all, and when the crowd didn't react immediately, I considered riding off in embarrassment.
But I stopped myself and forced Gimli around before moving him back towards the field. His momentum had taken us into the tree line and it was impossible to see the strawman from my position.
I forced myself to look at Prince Lewyn to see his reaction. He turned from the field with a smile on his face and turned to the crowd.
It was the fat announcer that gave everything away. The look of shock on his face as he stared down the field told me that I had hit the mark with my arrow.
At that moment, the crowd erupted as they looked at me. I saw many knights with their hands up in the sky as if they had just done it themselves. Prince Rhaegar's face was studying something down the field as if he was shocked. Hoster Tully was clapping with the Blackfish and Lord Arynn. Everyone was in awe of the shot.
I dismounted as soon as I got to the center of the field.
I looked down to the target I was looking at to see where I had struck the strawman. I could only laugh and cheer along with everyone else as I saw it.
The arrow had struck right in the groin of the strawman, just as Prince Lewyn had done in the previous round.
Prince Lewyn walked up to me then and grabbed my hand, before raising it high in the sky. It was a proclamation of his forfeit and everyone knew it. It was mostly formal. Nobody expected him to outperform me then.
"The victor of the Archery contest and winner of 10,000 gold dragons, Petyr Baelish!"
At that exact moment, the moment when I should have been happiest. A Trumpet sounded out, loud enough to cut through everything.
"The King is here! King Aerys is here!"
I had almost forgotten that the king had shown up to this tournament thinking that his own son had orchestrated it to overthrow him as the rest of the realm knew of his madness. I could only think of one thing to summarize the day that I just had.
"Well shit."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone