Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Willas stared at Glory, crouching on the ground, for a long time, lost in thought and completely forgetting the real reason he had come.

Margaery and Loras crouched on either side of him, cautiously reaching out to touch Glory now and then. Each time, it avoided their hands and bared its teeth in warning, causing them to withdraw quickly.

As for Glory, its eyes were filled with discontent as it glared at Lynd. It had been happily roaming the mountains, only to be called back and put on display, a situation that seemed like a deliberate punishment. Lynd, however, was stroking its head to calm it while carefully ensuring it didn't inadvertently harm the three Tyrells.

Willas eventually exclaimed in admiration, "It's truly shocking. I never imagined a Shadowcat could grow this large. The largest one ever recorded in books was the Shadowcat defeated by Garth Greenhand, the King of Shadowcats. But even the descriptions of that creature pale in comparison to Glory."

"Perhaps it has something to do with Glory being an albino Shadowcat," Lynd offered, attempting an explanation.

Willas shook his head, his expression serious. "Albino Shadowcats have been sighted in the Vale and the Red Mountains before, but none were ever this size. Moreover, Ser Lynd, Glory isn't an albino Shadowcat. A true albino is completely white, not black and white like Glory. Ordinary Shadowcats also have black and white markings, though not as distinct as its."

Pointing to Glory's tail and ears with the precision of a Maester specializing in biological studies, he added, "Glory resembles a hybrid between a Shadowcat and another unknown species. Its ears are much larger than those of a typical Shadowcat, and unlike theirs, which remain fixed upright, its can flatten backward. Its tail is also strikingly different—much longer than the short, stubby tails of Southern Shadowcats."

Lynd looked at Willas with a mixture of surprise and newfound respect. Despite spending so much time with Glory, he had never noticed these details. Willas had discerned them in mere moments, offering a fresh perspective on both Glory and Willas himself.

After hearing the analysis, Lynd asked hesitantly, "Are there really distinct differences between Northern and Southern Shadowcats?"

"Absolutely," Willas replied earnestly. "Animals of the same species adapt to their environments over time. The climate of The Reach differs greatly from that of The North, and such changes naturally influence the creatures living in these regions. A Maester once wrote about Shadowcats in the permafrost north of the Wall. He noted that those Shadowcats had thicker fur to withstand the cold, better gripping paws for icy terrain, and tails almost as long as their bodies for balance."

Lynd glanced at Glory's tail and remarked, "Then Glory must not be from the North. Its tail is much shorter than its body length."

"I agree," Willas said, nodding. He then pointed to Glory's eyes and added, "Have you noticed its pupils? They're unlike those of a typical Shadowcat."

"Pupils?" Lynd tilted Glory's head and gently lifted an eyelid to examine its eyes. The action visibly annoyed it; it shook its head free, rubbed its eyes with its paws, and growled irritably at him. Lynd quickly petted it in apology.

"They're not that different," Lynd said. "Aren't both types of pupils vertical, like a cat's?"

"Not exactly," Willas corrected. "Cats only have vertical pupils when hunting. Otherwise, their pupils are almond-shaped or sometimes round. And while Shadowcats are compared to cats for their agility, they're not true cats. Their lineage is closer to lions. Shadowcats' pupils contract so much during a hunt that they nearly disappear, leaving only the whites visible. That's why victims often describe their eyes as pale and eerie, fueling the belief that Shadowcats are the Stranger's envoys."

He glanced at Glory's eyes again. "But Glory's pupils resemble snake or dragon eyes more than any Shadowcat's."

Willas's observation struck a chord with Lynd, who froze momentarily. Willas's casual remark felt eerily accurate; perhaps Glory's unusual pupils were a result of it absorbing dragon soul energy from the resentful souls.

Just then, Willas reached out, intent on touching Glory. Its reaction was instantaneous and intense. It sprang up, bared its fangs, and growled menacingly, its body low and tense.

Vortimer and the guards swiftly stepped in, shielding Willas and drawing their weapons, prepared for any attack from the enraged creature.

Margaery and Loras, clearly frightened by Glory's ferocity, stood frozen for a moment before bursting into tears.

On the contrary, Willas appeared very calm. While comforting his younger siblings, he gestured to Vortimer and the guards to indicate he was fine. He also apologized to Lynd, saying, "I'm sorry about this. It's my fault for not heeding Ser Lynd's warning. Fortunately, nothing serious has happened."

"It's okay. No one other than me is allowed to touch this little guy," Lynd said, stroking Glory's taut neck. "Nymeria fed it for months. Once she tried to pet it, and it almost bit her hand off. Fortunately, Nymeria was prepared and had steel-armored gloves on."

"Nymeria? Is she the Lady of Tumbleton?" Willas asked curiously.

Lynd smiled and said, "Yes, but she doesn't like being called 'my lady' or even just 'Lady.' She often says, 'A Lord is a Lord—does the title of Lord really need to have a gender, like some kind of animal?'"

"Lady Nymeria is truly extraordinary," Willas said with a laugh, then asked, "It is rumored that only someone who has defeated the lady in a duel is eligible to marry her. Is that correct?"

Lynd replied in a serious tone, "Lord Willas, you've misunderstood! It's the right to court her, not marry her. Only those who defeat her in a duel earn the privilege of pursuing her."

"Is Lady Nymeria very strong?" Willas asked again.

"Very much so," Lynd answered truthfully. "No one in The Reach should be able to defeat, no, withstand a single attack from her in a straight fight. Prince Oberyn of Dorne might be able to defeat her, and in the Westerlands, the Mountain might withstand a few of her attacks, but he would still die under her giant axe in the end."

"That strong?" Willas looked surprised.

"Hmph!" Vortimer clearly took issue with Lynd's judgment and said, "Why do you say that the Red Viper of Dorne can defeat her?"

"Because they have fought." Lynd saw no reason to hide Nymeria's connection to Dorne. It was common knowledge among those who mattered, and it might even benefit Nymeria to have it openly acknowledged. So he told the truth: "When I arrived in Tumbleton with my troops, I happened to meet Prince Oberyn. He was very concerned about Nymeria's safety and wanted to take her to Dorne with him, but Nymeria refused. She has always believed she is a native of The Reach, the Lady of Tumbleton, and has the responsibility to defend the land. Even if she must die, she would die in Tumbleton."

After hearing Lynd's account, everyone present gained a vivid impression of the Lady of Tumbleton and developed respect for her actions and principles.

Willas pondered for a moment, then asked Lynd, "Ser Lynd, as you've also heard from Lord Vortimer, I'll be going to the tournament in Godsgrace, Dorne, in a few days. This is my first time participating in a tournament, so my father is not at ease and has summoned you from your anti-bandit duties here, mainly to escort me safely on the road. Apart from participating in the tournament, I also want to do something to improve relations between the two places, Lady Nymeria and Dorne…"

"I do not recommend that you do this, Lord Willas." Without waiting for Willas to finish, Lynd understood his intentions and directly dissuaded him: "Nymeria does not have much affection for Dorne. If you want to take her to Dorne and use her bloodline to improve relations between the two places, it will only backfire in the end."

"I understand," Willas said, quickly grasping Lynd's meaning. He laughed self-deprecatingly and added, "Master Mollos always said I was too young to understand the ways of the world. I didn't think he was right, but now it seems he was."

Vortimer reassured him, "Lord Willas, you've already done very well."

Willas smiled, clearly not taking Vortimer's words to heart. He then asked curiously, "You've met Prince Oberyn. What do you think of him?"

"He is a very charming man," Lynd said honestly. "If I hadn't joined House Tyrell and he had invited me at the time, I think I would have followed him to Dorne without hesitation."

When Willas heard Lynd's words, he didn't look displeased. Instead, he said with relief, "Fortunately, Garlan met Ser Lynd first. Otherwise, our House Tyrell would have lost a legendary figure."

The guards present did not disagree with Willas's statement. In their opinion, having such a giant beast as a companion was indeed worthy of the title "legendary figure." However, if Willas referred to Lynd's other rumored title of "the First Swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms," some might have felt differently.

At that moment, Vortimer suddenly asked curiously, "Since you encountered the Red Viper, you must have fought, right? What was the result?"

Lynd didn't answer but simply looked at Vortimer with a knowing smile.

Vortimer didn't press further, as if he had seen the answer in Lynd's expression.

Willas watched the two of them with interest as they engaged in this silent exchange.

"Big cat, the big cat is leaving!" Margaery shouted, pointing at Glory, who was preparing to sneak away.

Lynd glanced at Glory and waved, signaling that it could leave. Relieved, Glory quickly leaped onto the roof and disappeared from view in a few bounds.

Lynd then led Willas and the others into the house, while the guards remained outside at Willas's command.

As soon as they entered, Willas noticed the Banished Knight's suit of armor displayed on an armor stand. Being fond of jousting and knightly pursuits, he naturally admired knight armor. However, Lynd's suit was strikingly different from the armor worn by knights of the current Seven Kingdoms. The difference lay not only in style but also in its structure.

To an untrained eye, the full armor of the Banished Knight might seem no different from that of an ordinary knight.

But someone like Willas, well-versed in the intricacies of armor construction, could discern the differences. The most obvious distinction was the flexibility of the joints and locks in this armor, far surpassing the rigid designs of contemporary knightly armor. This increased flexibility allowed for a greater range of movement.

"Ser Lynd, may I pick it up and take a look?" Willas asked politely.

"Of course," Lynd replied with a nod. He wasn't concerned about his armor being imitated. When he first designed it, he had already considered the possibility of replication.

However, Lynd knew that even if someone succeeded in copying it, very few would be able to wear such a full suit of armor effectively. And even if they managed to wear it, fighting in it would be a completely different challenge.

As Lynd anticipated, Willas quickly dismissed the idea of imitation when he picked up the simplest component—the gauntlets. The sheer weight of the armor immediately altered his perspective.

The increased flexibility of the joint locks, which allowed for more movements, came at the cost of durability. The joints needed to withstand additional friction, impacts, and torsion, necessitating greater strength. Without Valyrian steel, the only way to achieve this strength was to increase the thickness of the locks. As a result, the size of a single lock on the Banished Knight's armor was equivalent to that of two locks on ordinary armor.

Furthermore, as the locks grew heavier, the steel plates connecting them also had to be thicker to prevent weak points prone to cracking. This cumulative effect made the entire suit twice as thick as a standard set of knight armor and more than twice as heavy.

For most people, simply walking in such armor would be a challenge, let alone fighting in it.

"Ser Lynd, can you still fight in this armor?" Willas asked curiously as he placed the gauntlet back on the stand.

Lynd didn't respond verbally, offering only a faint smile.

Willas recognized the same silent, knowing expression he had observed earlier between Vortimer and Lynd, immediately grasping its meaning.

He added with genuine interest, "I would truly love to see Lord Lynd fighting in this armor."

Lynd replied solemnly, "Then Lord Willas should pray that we encounter enough enemies on the way to Godsgrace."