The day drew long after 4 hours of full plate sword training when I heard Captian Myryn Tartus screaming.
"Ician! I careless that your father is related to some high lord. I don't give a lion's shit that your name is a Lannister. If you can't defend yourself then you are a useless to me. How am I suppose to teach you how to command swords if you can't even use one. Sword!" yelled Myryn.
A young private offered up his sword. Myryn grabbed the hilt in his right hand and tested the balance of blade.
"This will do." Myryn snorted.
He glared a look at me that suggested after he ran me through, that he might have a pork roast for dinner with stewed vegetables washed down with a Dorne vintage. I was nothing in his eyes. An ant hill to be stepped on.
"Defend!" Myryn yelled as he pulled his sword up high and bringing it down in an arc. Realizing what was going on, my sword hand rises up to defect his sword. Myryn pulls around and swings his sword at my mid section just getting my shield in the way. Several more blows classes against sword and shield. His pounding got heavy and dropped my shield. The last thing I remember is the pommel of his sword coming for my face.
I came to after what seemed like hours being out, all I could hear was Myryn screaming.
"Wake up you puke. You make me sick. I don't care what cock your grandmother sucked to get you this position, but I want you out. Get our of that armor and out of my sight."
Dragging my body up, I noticed the entire practice arena was full of red cloaked men staring at me. Slowly I got myself up, picked up my sword and sheathed it. The men standing around the circle didn't make easy passage to get out. Looking in their eyes, I could tell they would never accept me. This was the glorious batallion of the Greyjoy rebellion. I can smell their disgust because they think I got here because of name and not ability. I will get mine.
Upon reaching the tent, I achingly fall out of my armor and tear off my padding. So tired that I feel in my cot and never even made it to the cantina to get something to eat.
My eyes open to the sounds of alarms. Sight still blurry from the nights rest, I reach for the opening on my tent. Looking down I notice that my hands are dark and wet. Finally getting out from the darkness of the tent into the light of the morning, it dawned on me. My hands are full of blood. Waking up to the realization that blood was on my hands did I notice that the entire camp was moving about. All I could make out from the hundreds of people clatting mail and shouting was "the capain is dead, someone murdered him".
Looking back down at my hands, evidence would point at me.
"There he is, he did it. Look he has blood on his hands. I was there when that Captain ripped him a new one." Shocked by what I heard, I seen it was one of the privates that was at the arena yesturday. Before I could even think of running, a huge weight hit me in the back and knocked my breath out when I hit the ground.
Large hands grabbed me as they picked me up and carried me. Their strength was too much for me to try and fight. Raising my head I can see where we are going. The Captain's tent.
The hands threw me to the ground. Commander Branner looked down at me.
"Is this your dirty work? Did you do this because Captain Tartus was mean to you? hmmm? Why do such a monsterous thing?" the commander asked.
"I don't know what you are talking about, sir. I killed no one......sir." I felt the inside of my leg get warm as the nights water was released in fright over the mornings events.
The commander grabbed me by the hair and pushed me into the captain's tent. Upon looking at the body and the horror inside my stomache relieved all contents onto the floor where I stand. I seen a dead body once when was young but that was my grandmother. Nothing could ever prepare me for this.
The walls were covered with blood. One spot was clear but in it was the words REVENGE written in blood. The body was slashed and hacked like a lion tore into it. A knife was sticking out of the corpses' throat and it was the knife of an officer in training. Again I look down at my hands.
One of the Commander's personal gaurds popped his head into the tent. "Commander, his knife is missing." he said. Then left the tent.
The Commander stared down at me,"Well boy, your knife is missing and have blood on your hands. What do you have to say for yourself now?"
Looking around the tent, it dawned on me that I wasn't covered in blood. For where it was splattered all over the room, I should be covered in it. "Commander, sir, can I please ask the gaurd that searched my tent one question?"
Shrugging his shoulders, "sure, why not"
We stepped outside of the tent of horrors. The air was relieving to feel after the staunch smell that lingered in the tent. The commander called for the gaurd.
"You called for me sir?" the gaurd said.
"Trycin, my friend. The prisoner would like to ask you one question. Would you ablige to answer his request?" Commander Branner asked of his gaurd.
Trycin looked down on me with disgust, but then nodded his head at me.
My legs are shacking so hard my knees were knocking. "Lord, sir. Ummm, when you searched my tent for my knife, did you, did you.....see any blood?"
Scrunching up his face as if offended by the question, "no, there was clothing and armor haphazardly scattered on the floor, besides that it was clean."
I turned and looked at the Commander. "If I did what happened in that tent, don't you think I would be covered in blood and so would my tent. If I washed up afterwards, wouldn't my hands also be clean."
"Ician! I careless that your father is related to some high lord. I don't give a lion's shit that your name is a Lannister. If you can't defend yourself then you are a useless to me. How am I suppose to teach you how to command swords if you can't even use one. Sword!" yelled Myryn.
A young private offered up his sword. Myryn grabbed the hilt in his right hand and tested the balance of blade.
"This will do." Myryn snorted.
He glared a look at me that suggested after he ran me through, that he might have a pork roast for dinner with stewed vegetables washed down with a Dorne vintage. I was nothing in his eyes. An ant hill to be stepped on.
"Defend!" Myryn yelled as he pulled his sword up high and bringing it down in an arc. Realizing what was going on, my sword hand rises up to defect his sword. Myryn pulls around and swings his sword at my mid section just getting my shield in the way. Several more blows classes against sword and shield. His pounding got heavy and dropped my shield. The last thing I remember is the pommel of his sword coming for my face.
I came to after what seemed like hours being out, all I could hear was Myryn screaming.
"Wake up you puke. You make me sick. I don't care what cock your grandmother sucked to get you this position, but I want you out. Get our of that armor and out of my sight."
Dragging my body up, I noticed the entire practice arena was full of red cloaked men staring at me. Slowly I got myself up, picked up my sword and sheathed it. The men standing around the circle didn't make easy passage to get out. Looking in their eyes, I could tell they would never accept me. This was the glorious batallion of the Greyjoy rebellion. I can smell their disgust because they think I got here because of name and not ability. I will get mine.
Upon reaching the tent, I achingly fall out of my armor and tear off my padding. So tired that I feel in my cot and never even made it to the cantina to get something to eat.
My eyes open to the sounds of alarms. Sight still blurry from the nights rest, I reach for the opening on my tent. Looking down I notice that my hands are dark and wet. Finally getting out from the darkness of the tent into the light of the morning, it dawned on me. My hands are full of blood. Waking up to the realization that blood was on my hands did I notice that the entire camp was moving about. All I could make out from the hundreds of people clatting mail and shouting was "the capain is dead, someone murdered him".
Looking back down at my hands, evidence would point at me.
"There he is, he did it. Look he has blood on his hands. I was there when that Captain ripped him a new one." Shocked by what I heard, I seen it was one of the privates that was at the arena yesturday. Before I could even think of running, a huge weight hit me in the back and knocked my breath out when I hit the ground.
Large hands grabbed me as they picked me up and carried me. Their strength was too much for me to try and fight. Raising my head I can see where we are going. The Captain's tent.
The hands threw me to the ground. Commander Branner looked down at me.
"Is this your dirty work? Did you do this because Captain Tartus was mean to you? hmmm? Why do such a monsterous thing?" the commander asked.
"I don't know what you are talking about, sir. I killed no one......sir." I felt the inside of my leg get warm as the nights water was released in fright over the mornings events.
The commander grabbed me by the hair and pushed me into the captain's tent. Upon looking at the body and the horror inside my stomache relieved all contents onto the floor where I stand. I seen a dead body once when was young but that was my grandmother. Nothing could ever prepare me for this.
The walls were covered with blood. One spot was clear but in it was the words REVENGE written in blood. The body was slashed and hacked like a lion tore into it. A knife was sticking out of the corpses' throat and it was the knife of an officer in training. Again I look down at my hands.
One of the Commander's personal gaurds popped his head into the tent. "Commander, his knife is missing." he said. Then left the tent.
The Commander stared down at me,"Well boy, your knife is missing and have blood on your hands. What do you have to say for yourself now?"
Looking around the tent, it dawned on me that I wasn't covered in blood. For where it was splattered all over the room, I should be covered in it. "Commander, sir, can I please ask the gaurd that searched my tent one question?"
Shrugging his shoulders, "sure, why not"
We stepped outside of the tent of horrors. The air was relieving to feel after the staunch smell that lingered in the tent. The commander called for the gaurd.
"You called for me sir?" the gaurd said.
"Trycin, my friend. The prisoner would like to ask you one question. Would you ablige to answer his request?" Commander Branner asked of his gaurd.
Trycin looked down on me with disgust, but then nodded his head at me.
My legs are shacking so hard my knees were knocking. "Lord, sir. Ummm, when you searched my tent for my knife, did you, did you.....see any blood?"
Scrunching up his face as if offended by the question, "no, there was clothing and armor haphazardly scattered on the floor, besides that it was clean."
I turned and looked at the Commander. "If I did what happened in that tent, don't you think I would be covered in blood and so would my tent. If I washed up afterwards, wouldn't my hands also be clean."
