Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

After clearing the last mountain tribe village around Tumbleton, Lynd returned to Tumbleton to rest. A few days later, he headed to the area east of The Roseroad, stretching as far as the Blueburn River, determined to spend several months eliminating the bandits and hill tribes still roaming the region.

With the wildling tribes, mountain tribes, and bandits within Tumbleton's territory finally eradicated, the task of clearing bandits from the area north of Bitterbridge would be complete once the lands east of The Roseroad were secured.

"Who is she?" Lynd asked in the fortress stable. He had just removed the saddle from his mount, Ebon, and was about to brush its mane when Nymeria entered, accompanied by a young child.

"Her name is Brienne. She's the daughter of Lord Selwyn Tarth of Evenfall." Nymeria gently patted the back of the timid little girl, encouraging her to step forward.

Lynd froze momentarily at the introduction, his gaze settling on the small figure before him.

In his previous life, Lynd had enjoyed many characters from the world of ice and fire through books and dramas—Tyrion the Imp, Robb the Young Wolf, and Ygritte the Kissed by Fire among them. Yet, he had seldom liked any character completely, as most had traits he found disagreeable to some degree. Only two characters had earned his unreserved admiration: Dolorous Edd of the Night's Watch and Brienne the Beauty.

He admired Dolorous Edd for being a rare source of humor in the frozen, unforgiving North, his sharp wit making the cold a little more bearable.

Brienne, however, held a different kind of appeal. In a world where the values of knighthood had crumbled and people increasingly pursued the basest instincts, she stood as a beacon of the knightly spirit—one of honor, dignity, and unwavering principle. The light Brienne exuded was one that could illuminate even the darkest corners of the human heart.

Now, standing before a young Brienne, Lynd felt a surge of emotion.

He approached her slowly, crouching to her level to study the timid girl trying hard to appear composed.

Brienne wasn't as unpleasant-looking as described in the books. Though her features leaned toward masculinity, they weren't unattractive. She had the look of an ordinary girl—perhaps because her nose had not yet been broken and her teeth remained intact. Her blue eyes, however, were exactly as described: innocent, direct, and untainted by the world.

"I am Lynd Tarran. It is a pleasure to meet you, Brienne of Tarth," Lynd said, extending his hand toward the young girl.

Perhaps sensing Lynd's goodwill, Brienne reached out hesitantly, shaking his hand before replying, "Hello, Ser Lynd. I am Brienne of Tarth."

Lynd smiled warmly and then straightened, turning to Nymeria. "Why is she here?" he asked.

Nymeria explained, "Lord Tarth has a close relationship with my mother and has helped me in the past. This time, he sent Brienne to me so she could become my squire and learn from me."

"That's a good thing," Lynd said, nodding in approval.

Nymeria shook her head slightly. "However, I can't make Brienne my squire, so I brought her to you to ask if you would take her as yours."

Lynd froze at the unexpected suggestion. His expression grew skeptical as he asked, "Why don't you take her yourself?"

"You forget, I'm not a knight," Nymeria replied with a small shake of her head. Her gaze shifted to Brienne, who stood quietly by her side. "She wants to become a knight, something I cannot grant her."

Lynd hesitated, his face showing a hint of discomfort. "She's a girl. It might be a bit... inappropriate for her to be my squire. Why don't you handle her training, and when you think she's ready, I'll knight her?"

Before Nymeria could respond, Brienne stepped forward. Her timid demeanor gave way to determination as she gathered her courage and spoke clearly. "Master Goodwin once said that the only way to become a true knight is to follow a real knight. Ser Lynd, you are the Chosen Warrior of the Starry Sept, known as the model of a knight in this world. I want to follow you and learn how to become a true knight."

Nymeria smiled at Brienne's boldness, her admiration clear. She turned to Lynd and asked, "What do you think, Lord Chosen One?"

Lynd was silent for a moment, weighing the situation. Finally, he handed the brush in his hand to Brienne and said, "If you can clean Ebon today, I'll take you as my squire."

Brienne's eyes lit up at his words. She quickly took the brush, her enthusiasm evident. However, Nymeria frowned, gently holding Brienne back before she could approach the large, imposing horse. "It's dangerous to let her near Ebon. Its temper is volatile, and I'm afraid it might hurt her."

Ebon, smaller than the other mount Moonmaid, was known for his unpredictable temperament. While Moonshine had grown calm enough to allow stable boys to care for him, Ebon refused to let anyone but Lynd approach. The horse was quick to kick and bite, and more than one stable boy had been injured trying to handle him.

"Don't worry, I'll be watching," Lynd reassured Brienne. He pointed to the stable's rafters and added, "Besides, Glory is here keeping an eye on things too. You don't need to worry."

High in the shadows of the rafters lounged Glory, a massive creature whose form blended seamlessly into the darkness. Its tail swung lazily, almost imperceptibly. Glory's ability to meld with shadows had become so refined that it could vanish entirely, its presence undetectable unless someone looked very carefully.

Nymeria squinted at the rafters, trying to spot Glory. Despite Lynd's assurance, she saw nothing. Still, she trusted his word and released Brienne's hand.

Brienne eagerly approached Ebon but quickly realized she was too small to reach the tall horse. Even though she was taller than most children her age, Ebon's large frame dwarfed her. Thinking quickly, she searched the stable and found a few stools. After stacking them into a makeshift platform, she climbed up and attempted to brush Ebon's mane.

The moment Brienne's small hand reached for it, Ebon snorted angrily. It stepped sideways, its powerful body knocking over the stools and sending Brienne tumbling to the ground.

Nymeria couldn't suppress a small smile at Brienne's disheveled appearance.

Undeterred, Brienne got back up, brushed herself off, and began stacking the stools again. She climbed back up and made another attempt to brush Ebon, only to be knocked down once more.

The scene repeated itself, with Brienne falling and rising again, each time more determined than the last. The stubborn girl and the equally stubborn horse seemed locked in a silent contest of wills, neither willing to back down.

Seeing that Brienne wasn't in any real danger, Nymeria exchanged a glance with Lynd. Without a word, the two of them left the stable together, leaving the girl and the horse to settle things on their own terms.

"I'm going to settle the mountain tribes you brought back this time in Redleaf Village. What do you think?" Nymeria asked Lynd as they strolled along the path.

"Didn't Redleaf Village settle some wildling tribes before?" Lynd inquired, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

Nymeria nodded. "Those wildling tribes are a bit unruly. Settling these tribes there will cause minor friction, and I'll have an excuse to intervene."

Hearing this, Lynd glanced at her and chuckled. "You've already begun to think like a Lord."

"This is a must. I can't always rely on you to make decisions!" Nymeria replied, her voice carrying a trace of complaint. "You can't stay here forever."

Lynd gave a wry smile but chose not to respond.

Nymeria sighed softly and then asked, "How long can you stay here?"

"It could be a year or two," Lynd replied, his tone measured, "or it could be less. It depends on what Highgarden thinks."

Deep down, Lynd knew very well that his time in Tumbleton would not stretch to a year or two. He was likely to leave sooner, probably as soon as the Blackwater Rush Fortress was completed. Willas had made it clear that he wanted the pace of Lynd's efforts accelerated.

Though Willas Tyrell had not become the Three-Eyed Crow, the influence of that experience had lingered, shaping his priorities. Defending against the White Walkers had become his foremost concern. In recent months, under Lynd's advice, prisoners from all across The Reach had been sent to The Wall to serve as members of the Night's Watch, provided their crimes were not trivial. The total number sent exceeded a thousand, creating ripples across the region.

Sending prisoners to The Wall to serve as Night's Watchmen was not unprecedented, but it was rarely practiced on this scale. Most Lords preferred to handle prisoners within their own territories, only sending a handful of death row inmates northward. Consequently, the Night's Watch often struggled to find enough recruits, even after sending recruiters south. A recruitment drive yielding twenty or thirty prisoners was typically considered a success.

The sudden influx of over a thousand prisoners from The Reach had shocked other Lords. This dramatic move caused quite a stir, with many feeling that Willas had gone too far. Rumors began circulating, suggesting that Willas's paralysis had affected his judgment, casting doubts on his suitability as Highgarden's heir.

However, the criticism soon subsided. As the prisoners were sent to The Wall, the security in The Reach's territories improved significantly. Even drunken brawls became rare. This led many to mistakenly believe that Willas's actions were intended to maintain order in The Reach rather than preparing for a greater threat.

In the end, the matter was resolved favorably. Willas's reputation emerged unscathed, even bolstered in the eyes of many. Yet, his grandmother, the Queen of Thorns, and his father, Lord Mace, grew concerned about his state of mind and health. To alleviate their worries, they restricted some of his powers and encouraged him to rest in Highgarden.

With his abilities constrained, Willas had turned his hopes for bolstering resistance against the White Walkers toward Lynd. Recently, he had written two letters, dispatched with special envoys, urging Lynd to hasten the task of suppressing the bandits and completing his work in Tumbleton.

The tone of Willas's letters seemed calm, but Lynd could sense the anxiety beneath the surface. He felt that even if he stayed in Tumbleton and did nothing more, Willas might still announce at the right time that the task of suppressing the bandits had been successfully completed. He would likely then hand over the enclave in the Sea of Dorne to Lynd without hesitation.

If other knights were aware that someone was so eager to give away territory, they would undoubtedly be consumed with jealousy toward Lynd.

As Lynd gazed across the Mander River at Tumbleton, he couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the progress made. When he first arrived, Tumbleton had been nothing more than a small village. Now, just one year later, it had developed into a burgeoning city. If the location were more suited to his long-term plans, he might have considered staying.

Lynd let out a soft sigh. "When I leave, I will leave Wenda the White Fawn here. With the 300 rangers under her command and the garrison at your disposal, she should be able to handle most dangers."

"Hmm," Nymeria nodded, neither objecting nor offering further comment. Then, with her face suddenly flushed, she said in an abrupt tone, "I'm already 20 years old. That's the age when my mother got pregnant with me."

Lynd was momentarily taken aback. He turned to look at Nymeria, his expression thoughtful. After a pause, he said, "My bed isn't very comfortable. How is the bed over there?"

Nymeria initially didn't understand Lynd's words. Disappointment flickered across her face, but she quickly realized his meaning. Her expression brightened as she hastily replied, "My bed was carefully crafted by the craftsmen of King's Landing. It is covered with a thick goose-down quilt and is very comfortable to sleep on."

Taking Nymeria's hand, Lynd smiled. "That's good. I'll be sleeping at your place for a while!"

For the knight officials of Tumbleton and the officers of Lynd's cavalry patrols, the union of Lynd and Nymeria was a development they had long been hoping to see. Over the past year, they had repeatedly created opportunities for the two to grow closer, yet neither had shown much enthusiasm for the other. Were it anyone else, they might already have children by now.

Scar-Eyed Mitt, in particular, had grown impatient. He began concocting bad ideas, even suggesting that Malora, who was skilled in poisons and potions, prepare some kind of aphrodisiac for either Lynd or Nymeria. Malora's response, however, left Scar-Eyed Mitt regretting his suggestion as he spent the entire day suffering from uncontrollable stomach issues.

When word spread from a maid that Lynd had been seen entering Nymeria's castle room at night, it brought a sense of relief and satisfaction among the knight officials, as though a long-awaited wish had finally been granted.

The only exception was Malora, whose expression turned noticeably sour. Those with sharp instincts knew to avoid her for the time being.

Some of Nymeria's newer subordinates expressed concern over the situation, given that Lynd and Nymeria were not married. If the relationship resulted in offspring, the children would be considered bastards—a status that carried a significant stigma in Westeros.

For Nymeria's older and more loyal subordinates, however, this was not seen as a major issue. After all, Nymeria herself was technically a bastard. When she was born, her mother had given her the Footly surname, and Nymeria had not faced outward difficulties because of her illegitimate status. At least, not publicly.