Rhory Locke

The pounding of the surf against the cliffs and the feel of sea spray on his face would always be calming for Rhory. Growing up in Oldcastle on the shore of the Bite they were the constant companions of a boy who was always escaping the keep and the town.

His brother, Aemund, was his constant companion on these adventures. Aemund was a scholarly type and loved his books and reading. Many years later he would travel to Oldtown to study to be a Maester, but when Rhory was young, Aemund would fill Rhory's head with tales of gallant Knights and damsels in distress; with stories of mighty dragons breathing flame; and stories of the Others beyond the wall.

But the stories that entranced Rhory the most were those about the Kingsguard. Stories of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight defending his brother Aegon IV from assassins; Ser Duncan the tall; Ser Serwyn of the Mirror Shield; ser Gwayne Cobray; and of course ser Arthur Dayne, sword of the Morning.

Rhory looked up to these Kingsguard for inspiration. Here were noble knights, warriors of renown, men to inspire and influence a young boy to learn the ways of honour. Ways that he would never learn from his father or his two eldest brothers.

Rhory was the 4th son of Amory Locke, who was himself the third youngest brother of Ser Donnell Locke, lord of Oldcastle. In fact, his mother had wanted a daughter and his father had little interest in more children as he had three boys already, which was possibly one too many in his liking. So another son was a disappointment to all in his family.

The oldest two boys, Alyx and Daffyd were the apple of their father's eye. Strong, tall and proud they were; skilled in the use of sword and lance; strong riders; their only flaw was a complete inability to shoot a bow. But such was not a concern for a man like Amory Locke. Two sons he had that he could be proud of, warriors like himself and maybe one day to be Knights serving ser Donnell, their lord and uncle.

Aemund was rather skinnier and less adventurous than his brothers. His was a world filled with books, tallies of numbers and the lore of the first men. And while his father did not quite understand his third son, he at least could feel a little proud that he would hopefully be a maester one day. Rhory on the other hand was supposed to be a girl.

Oh, his mother loved him enough, along with Aemund she was the only one in their family that did. But once Rhory overheard his mother talking with the ladies of the keep, talking of the girl she wished she had. And this was a hurt that Rhory would keep in his heart until the day he died.

But his brother Aemund, he was Rhory's true family. 4 years older than Rhory and himself 3 years younger than Daffyd, Aemund tried to protect his little brother as much as he could from his callous older brothers, who used to beat and torment Rhory every chance they got. Being a bookish sort, Aemund was hardly able to stand up to his brothers, or incite any interest in their father, who cared not for little boy's scuffles.

But Aemund could take Rhory out with him on trips into the town, as well as trips out to the lands surrounding the town to study the lore of herbs and animals in the wild. These were when he would fill Rhory's head with tales of the Dragon Knight and the Sword of the Morning. And he would smile that tremulous smile when Rhory would swear that one day, he too would grow up to be a famous knight of the Kingsguard. If he ever had any doubts of his younger brother's ability or determination, he kept them to himself.

His father of course did not neglect his youngest son completely and Rhory was trained in the ways of a warrior. And being inspired by the Knights of the Kingsguard, Rhory pushed himself to not just learn, but to master the lance, sword and riding on horseback, as all true Knights did in the tales. But Rhory excelled with the axe and the morning star, or the single headed flail as some referred to it. And he was no mean shot with a longbow either.

None of this earned aught from his father, who often muttered darkly about the costs of raising 4 sons and how Rhory should be sent to the wall upon reaching his majority. In private, mind, for such talk in public would only earn him scorn and ridicule as a niggardly father.

Not long after his 12th birthday, his father sent Aemund off to Oldtown to study to be a Maester. This was both a happy day for Rhory, as his brother was getting all he wanted by being accepted to study all the lore he so loved; but also a day of sadness as Rhory was losing his closest friend and confidante. And as Aemund boarded the boat for the start of his trip, a single tear streaked it's way down Rhory's face, unnoticed by all.

Life after that was a solitary one for Rhory. He did not make friends easily, being somewhat shy and his eldest brothers scaring off most would be friends. Oh, some he had, down in the town and a few shepherds in the hills, but with Aemund gone, his adventures became very limited.

So he threw himself into his training. Many were the times that he would be seen running around the castle keep, dodging between the many people within. And slowly he grew taller and stronger, though he would never reach quite the height of his father or brothers.

A few months before his 16th birthday he was summoned by his father to his chambers, and while outside, he heard his father arguing with his mother about sending him to the wall and making him take the black. Rhory was shocked to hear this and burst into the room.

"Oh, don't worry father," Rhory stated, in words both bitter and resentful. "I shall not be a burden on you any longer, you need not worry."

His father, somewhat accustomed to the resentfulness in his youngest son's voice and holding little care for him replied "Now listen here, you young whelp! I am your father and you will do as I say."

"No," Rhory replied, "you were never my father. Oh, you may have sired me, but when did you ever care one bit for me? You were no true father."

Hearing this, his father stepped over and punched his son in the face, hard enough to stagger Rhory and cut his skin above the eye. His mother cried out and went to reach for Rhory, but his father pushed her back.

As Rhory staggered to his feet his father said "You will never speak to me that way again! I ought to have you flogged for such insolence! Now get out of my sight!" And with one last look, one that some would later realise to be murderous, Rhory fled the room.

After the blood had stopped flowing, Rhory sought out his lord, ser Donnell Locke, his Uncle and a man somewhat sympathetic to Rhory's plight in the past, though not one to interfere in his brother's family life. Upon being allowed entry into his Lord's presence in the training yard, he dropped to his knees.

"Arise, young Rhory, what brings you to me this day?"

"Well, my Lord," Rhory stated, his voice straining with emotions, "I came to ask you a boon. I wish to leave this place, to head to King's Landing and earn my place in this world."

"How might I help in this, young Rhory?", the Lord asked.

"All I ask my Lord, is my horse, my weapons and my armour, and your leave to depart this place."

Ser Donnell looked Rhory over, his eyes taking in the cut above his eye and the blood on his tunic. "I see. Though I do wonder why I should allow a sword under my care, not to mention a member of the Locke's, to depart. Stay and you may one day be knighted yourself and fight for me. What do you gain by leaving?"

Rhory hesitated, unsure of just how much to tell his Uncle, unsure of what the response would be. "You see, my Lord, my father would... he would have me take the black when I reach my majority in 2 months. So you see, you would not be losing much at all."

Ser Donnell reacted with some surprise. "The black, you say? I didn't..." and trailed off into silence, a thoughtful look in his eyes. After a few minutes, minutes in which Rhory's head hung low in supplication, he continued. "Alright then, Rhory. I grant your request with one proviso. That you never dishonour the arms of our house, that you hold yourself to the ways of honour that I would expect of any Knight in my household, be you but a freerider. Do this and I shall allow you to bear our arms in the kingdom."

"I do so swear my Lord, and you have my eternal thanks." And this time, there were no tears, only a fierce determination that burned in his eyes for all to see.

And thus was Rhory's life changed forever.