Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Cor Azer" data-source="post: 5654521" data-attributes="member: 870">After watching the merchant and his sellswords leave the room, and returning from securing Agorn in another room, Haken returns to find the master-of-hounds being brought up to date on the day's events. The sarjeant takes a moment to pat the squire Ollin on the shoulder. "Ser Rolston seems a tough one. He'll pull through. Go on in with the maester; I'm sure your knight could use the company."With the squire gone, Haken nods in greeting once he catches Mhyrko's gaze."No riders have been sent to Lord Corbray yet," says Haken, answering the new arrival's question for Ser Jarl. "And Maester Karlon didn't bring any ravens with him." The veteran guard peers around the inn, judging its strength. "Heart's Home is another day or two along the river, and not really that far off our path, milords. I daresay the innkeeper hasn't got anyone to spare after the stableboy's death, and I wouldn't trust the Pentoshi with a message for Lord Corbray. That pretty much leaves us either sitting here guarding the prisoner, or taking him with us to the Corbray's." Haken furrows his brow as he glances around the room some more. Defensible enough, he thinks, At least, to contain the sellsword. Don't know how those other sellswords will react to their old comrade being held so close by. He smiles ruefully, Sellswords and bastards - who ever really trusts us?"Ser Laton, Ser Jarl," says Ser Gough, after clearing his throat. "Though it pains me to delay the trip to Lakelights, perhaps I may be the solution." Haken rolls his eyes at the humble bow of the rotund knight. "I could travel on to Heart's Home, and deliver the news onto Lord Lyonnel, while you and yours remain here, guarding the ne'er-do-well.""Murderer," says Haken. "With due respect, Ser, let's not forget that this sellsword was no mere gambling cheat.""Indeed, indeed," agrees Ser Gough. Although his words are apologetic, a seething anger can be read in his eyes for having to mollify a bastard."And what of the maester?" asks Ser Laton. "Ser Rolston and the lady are both under his care at the moment. Would you leave him behind?"The stout knight mutters for a moment, as if speaking to his chin. "Well... I... Well... harumph... I... I would have to bring him with me. My brother would never forgive me for leaving such a valued servant of House Crelling behind." He gestures at Haken, hoping for an out. "But here, the sarjeant himself said that Ser Rolston will pull through. He just needs some bandages changes, I'm sure. Even Maester Karlon said earlier he should be fine." The knight points vaguely off towards the rooms. "And the pregnant lady just needs sleep. She has her squire to guard her, and really... it's just a bastard in her belly... not really that important..."You pompous idiot, thinks Haken. I wonder if the Seven would hold me in judgment if I cut you down.Ser Gough continues to babble, oblivious to Haken's rising ire and contempt. "Even given two days to ride to Heart's Home, and two days back - that still leaves enough time to just arrive at Lakelights and the tourney. Why, I'm sure Ser Terald would understand our tardiness and make suitable arrangements for us in the lists.""You assume Lord Corbray would ride out here immediately, Ser Gough," says Haken, taking a small amount of pleasure in keeping the knight's thoughts on having a conversation with a mere bastard. "And that all this mess with the sellsword will be resolved quickly." He smirks, a friendly one to his lords, but cynically to Ser Gough. "Lords are not known for rushing through their duties."Outside, Mhyrko's girls begin barking and braying. Shouts are heard, and a glance out the window shows four horses and three riders near the barn. A fourth person stands in the entryway of the barn, taking in the bloody scene within. The wind outside is faint, but a few gusts show enough strength to billow out the banner held by the smallest rider enough to note the three crows and hearts of House Corbray.One rider, wearing a fine red and black surcoat, turns and trots his horse towards the inn. "I am Ser Patrek Ravensblood, sworn sword of Lord Lyonnel Corbray of Heart's Home. I demand an explanation."</blockquote>

Verification