Chapter 21: The Decision
The tension in the arena was slowly risking, seemingly reaching the peak at any moment. Jaime Lannister's hands were getting wet and his breath quicker by the second. He never experienced anything quite like it. Everything in his field of view seemed painted in dark red. He was slowly rising from his seat, grabbing the handrail in front of him, not even noticing his subconscious action. Kevan Lannister was holding his shoulder with his slightly shaking hand to prevent any accident.
Attilius was standing still enjoying the moment. He was pretty sure that this was the last time in his life he would feel the joy of a gladiator. Anika would never allow him to take the slightest risk again, as they were now a noble family and wealthy enough for their child, and even future children, to grow up without a problem. He was peeking at Victor to judge whether to kill or to wait for a judgement. Victor quickly showed him a sign to wait and turned to his father, whispering something in his ear. Amando Di Natale's hands were starting to shake slowly, as the soft voice of his son seemed to be louder than anything he ever heard, completely overwhelming the cheers of the crowd.
"Let the five families of Westeros make the decision by voting. Lannister, Stark, Tyrell, Tully, and Martell. Let Robert Baratheon announce the decision."
Amando Di Natale was no genius diplomat; he was a man of integrity and military spirit. But he was by no means an idiot. His palms were sweating as he understood the impact this would have on Westeros. This was now becoming a game of power and could decide the major alliances to be formed in the future. Show goodwill to House Tyrell or be merciless to the weak? How would the Mad King react if you openly showed goodwill to a major noble house of Westeros? Did they want to form an alliance against the increasingly more criticized Targaryen King.
On top of that the decision would be made by a group of underage children. Eddard Stark, Jaime Lannister, Oberyn Martell, Mace Tyrell, and Robert Baratheon. The only experienced person would be the Blackfish, Brynden Tully.
But Amando trusted his only son more than anybody in the world. With confidence he stood up and walked at the middle position of the large balcony, facing the nobles of Westeros. He held up his hand and the colosseum quieted down within seconds, showing the high prestige the house of Di Natale enjoyed in Lys.
"Dear friends from afar, comrades of Lys, today we gathered together many people of different places to witness the grandness of the arena. To show the prestige of the nobles of Westeros we decided to gift the right to decide about the life and death of those two gladiators to Jaime Lannister, Brynden Tully, Eddard Stark, Mace Tyrell and our dear friend Oberyn Martell! Each has one vote. Either thumbs up or thumbs down, however you decide!
The decision will be announced by Robert Baratheon, the future heir of the noble Baratheon family and future Lord of Storms End! Please everyone give applause to the noble lords of Westeros!"
The six named persons reacted quite differently. The young Jamie Lannister seemed a little overwhelmed, looking towards his uncle Kevon to help him decide.
Robert Baratheon was only excited, as he was eagerly waiting for the decision.
Eddard Stark kept calm and had a thoughtful expression. He was remembering the teachings of his foster father Jon Arryn.
Mace Tyrell was overwhelmed with anger and shame. His head was as read as the blood that colored the sand of the arena. He was desperately trying to stay sane.
Oberyn Martell had a playful smile on his face. This was a situation he loved to the extreme. Such a wonderful game was undoubtedly played by his good friend. What a truly wonderful gift.
The only person completely unfaced was Brynden Tully. The war veteran faced decisions many times more fatal. This was nothing more than a little amusement for him. But deep down he still enjoyed the attention he got. The first time somebody really put him in the limelight.
Mace Tyrell was the first to decide. Even though he wanted nothing more than killing those two bloody bastards kneeling in the sand of the arena, if he really dared to kill them and literally piss on the face of the Tyrell family in front of thousands of people, he was uncertain if his dear mother, Lady Olenna, would not rip his head off when returning to Highgarden. He stood up with a more than painful face and slowly raised his hand turning his thumb up. His arm started visibly shaking when nearly the whole colosseum started booing overwhelmingly.
The next to decide was Brynden Tully. The war veteran hated nothing more than for the loser to beg for forgiveness. They even went for a fight with a handicap, completely throwing all their honor and pride down the drain. Brynden, with a disdainful face, slowly raised his hand and turned his thumbs down. The voice of the crowd immediately turned into a sea of cheers. Immediately after Oberyn Martell followed with the same motion letting the cheers erupt even more.
Mace Martell was livid with anger as one more vote against House Tyrell would put him in a very dangerous position and bring shame upon his family. He turned towards Jamie Lannister and Eddard Stark wishing to put a knife on their neck and forcing them to vote in his favor.
The young Jamie obviously felt the pressure. He didn't dare to openly ask his uncle for a decision in front of thousands of people as that would bring shame to the house of Lannister. The boy obviously wasn't quite sure how to act. His uncle was trying to give him hints but Jamie was too nervous to even look at him. After a few moments the boy decided to save the life of the two gladiators. A decision to be expected from a nine-year-old child. Honestly, if such a young boy could cold-bloodedly decide to kill people in front of this large of a crowd and so many nobles of Westeros, that would surely be more than impressive. Jamie slowly raised his hand turning his thumb up. The cheers stopped but the people of Lys didn't boo a little child, they were not yet unreasonable to such a degree. The arena slowly turned to calm again.
Eddard Stark, no matter how calm and collected he usually was, still a youth of only thirteen years, slowly lost his composure under such a huge pressure. His foster father Jon Arryn told him countless times to never go against the Targaryen family if he was not in a desperate situation. In front of him was the decision to either forge a feud with House Tyrell or become a dorn in the eyes of an increasingly more uncontrollable king. Face the immediate pressure of the crown or plant a seed for a future backstab by the biggest noble house of the Reach. In the end the boy listened to the advice of his teacher and choose not to cause suspicion of the royal family. He raised his slightly wet hands and slowly turned his thumb down.
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