Read Online The Mystery Knight by George R. R. Martin - Free Book Online Page A

their own tent a bit apart from the others. Maester and the two horses
were hobbled nearby, and Dunk’s arms and armor had been neatly stacked against
the castle walls. When he crept into the tent, he found his squire sitting
cross-legged by a candle, his head shining as he peered over a book.
     
    “Reading books by candlelight
will make you blind.” Reading remained a mystery to Dunk, though the lad had
tried to teach him.
     
    “I need the candlelight to see
the words, ser.”
     
    “Do you want a clout in the ear?
What book is that?” Dunk saw bright colors on the page, little painted shields
hiding in amongst the letters.
     
    “A roll of arms, ser.”
     
    “Looking for the Fiddler? You
won’t find him. They don’t put hedge knights in those rolls, just lords and
champions.”
     
    “I wasn’t looking for him. I saw
some other sigils in the yard.... Lord Sunderland is here, ser. He bears the
heads of three pale ladies, on undy green and blue.”
     
    “A Sisterman? Truly?” The Three
Sisters were islands in the Bite. Dunk had heard septon say that the isles were
sinks of sin and avarice. Sisterton was the most notorious smuggler’s den in
all of Westeros. “He’s come a long way. He must be kin to Butterwell’s new
bride.”
     
    “He isn’t, ser.”
     
    “Then he’s here for the feast.
They eat fish on the Three Sisters, don’t they? A man gets sick of fish. Did
you get enough to eat? I brought you half a capon and some cheese.” Dunk
rummaged in the pocket of his cloak.
     
    “They fed us ribs, ser.” Egg’s
nose was deep in the book. “Lord Sunderland fought for the Black Dragon, ser.”
     
    “Like old Ser Eustace? He wasn’t
so bad, was he?” “No, ser,” Egg said, “but—
     
    “I saw the dragon’s egg.” Dunk
squirrled the food away with their hard-bread and salt beef. “It was red,
mostly. Does Lord Bloodraven own a dragon’s egg as well?”
     
    Egg lowered his book. “Why would
he? He’s baseborn.”
     
    “Bastard born, not baseborn.”
Bloodraven had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, but he was noble on
both sides. Dunk was about to tell Egg about the men he’d overhead when he
noticed his face. “What happened to your lip?”
     
    “A fight, ser.”
     
    “Let me see it.”
     
    “It only bled a little. I dabbed
some wine on it.”
     
    “Who were you fighting?”
     
    “Some other squires. They said—”
     
    “Never mind what they said. What
did I tell you?”
     
    “To hold my tongue and make no
trouble.” The boy touched his broken lip. “They called my father a kinslayer, though.”
     
    He is, lad, though I do not think
he meant it. Dunk had told Egg half a hundred times not to take such words to heart. You
know the truth. Let that be enough. They had heard such talk before, in
wine sinks and low taverns, and around campfires in the woods. The whole realm
knew how Prince Maekar’s mace had felled his brother Baelor Breakspear at
Ashford Meadow. Talk of plots was only to be expected. “If they knew Prince
Maekar was your father, they would never have said such things.” Behind your
back, yes, but never to your face. “And what did you tell these other
squires, instead of holding your tongue?”
     
    Egg looked abashed. “That Prince
Baelor’s death was just a mishap. Only when I said Prince Maekar loved his
brother Baelor, Ser Addam’s squire said he loved him to death, and Ser Mallor’s
squire said he meant to love his brother Aerys the same way. That was when I
hit him. I hit him good.”
     
    “I ought to hit you good. A fat
ear to go with that fat lip. Your father would do the same if he were here. Do
you think Prince Maekar needs a little boy to defend him? What did he tell you
when he sent you off with me?”
     
    “To serve you faithfully as your
squire, and not flinch from any task or hardship.” “And what else?”
     
    “To obey the king’s laws, the rules
of chivalry, and you.” “And what else?”
     
    “To