Read Online A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin - Free Book Online

with death, crawled to his knees. “Thank
you, Your Grace. And you, my lady. Thank you.”
    As a brace of Lannister guardsmen led him off, the master of revels approached
the box. “Your Grace,” he said, “shall I summon

a new challenger for Brune, or proceed with the next tilt?”
    “Neither. These are gnats, not knights. I’d have them all put to death, only
it’s my name day. The tourney is done. Get them all out of my
sight.”
    The master of revels bowed, but Prince Tommen was not so obedient. “I’m
supposed to ride against the straw man.”
    “Not today.”
    “But I want to ride!”
    “I don’t care what you want.”
    “Mother
said
I could ride.”
    “She said,” Princess Myrcella agreed.
    “Mother
said,
” mocked the king. “Don’t be childish.”
    “We’re children,” Myrcella declared haughtily. “We’re
supposed
to
be childish.”
    The Hound laughed. “She has you there.”
    Joffrey was beaten. “Very well. Even my brother couldn’t tilt any worse than
these others. Master, bring out the quintain, Tommen wants to be a
gnat.”
    Tommen gave a shout of joy and ran off to be readied, his chubby little legs
pumping hard. “Luck,” Sansa called to him.
    They set up the quintain at the far end of the lists while the prince’s pony
was being saddled. Tommen’s opponent was a child-sized leather warrior stuffed
with straw and mounted on a pivot, with a shield in one hand and a padded mace
in the other. Someone had fastened a pair of antlers to the knight’s head.
Joffrey’s father King Robert had worn antlers on his helm, Sansa

remembered . . . but so did his uncle Lord Renly, Robert’s
brother, who had turned traitor and crowned himself king.
    A pair of squires buckled the prince into his ornate silver-and-crimson armor.
A tall plume of red feathers sprouted from the crest of his helm, and the lion
of Lannister and crowned stag of Baratheon frolicked together on his shield.
The squires helped him mount, and Ser Aron Santagar, the Red Keep’s
master-at-arms, stepped forward and handed Tommen a blunted silver longsword
with a leaf-shaped blade, crafted to fit an eight-year-old hand.
    Tommen raised the blade high. “Casterly Rock!” he shouted in a high boyish
voice as he put his heels into his pony and started across the
hard-packed dirt
at the quintain. Lady Tanda and Lord Gyles started a ragged cheer, and Sansa
added her voice to theirs. The king brooded in silence.
    Tommen got his pony up to a brisk trot, waved his sword vigorously, and struck
the knight’s shield a solid blow as he went by. The quintain spun, the padded
mace flying around to give the prince a mighty whack in the back of his head.
Tommen spilled from the saddle, his new armor rattling like a bag of old pots
as he hit the ground. His sword went flying, his pony cantered away across the
bailey, and a great gale of derision went up. King Joffrey laughed longest and
loudest of all.
    “Oh,” Princess Myrcella cried. She scrambled out of the box and ran to her
little brother.
    Sansa found herself possessed of a queer giddy courage. “You should go with
her,” she told the king. “Your brother might

be hurt.”
    Joffrey shrugged. “What if he is?”
    “You should help him up and tell him how well he rode.” Sansa could not seem
to stop herself.
    “He got knocked off his horse and fell in the dirt,” the king pointed out.
“That’s not riding well.”
    “Look,” the Hound interrupted. “The boy has courage. He’s going to try
again.”
    They were helping Prince Tommen mount his pony.
If only Tommen were the
elder instead of Joffrey,
Sansa thought.
I wouldn’t mind marrying
Tommen.
    The sounds from the gatehouse took them by surprise. Chains rattled as the
portcullis was drawn upward, and the great gates opened to the creak of iron
hinges. “Who told them to open the gate?” Joff demanded. With the troubles in
the city, the gates of the Red Keep had been closed