chapter 146 part 1
Chapter 146: Hunter and Prey 7
In the first round, Glyn easily unhorsed the knight from Riverrun.
In the second round, his opponent was Lord Renly Baratheon.
When Lord Renly entered the lists, the cheers from the spectators were unceasing.
Glyn took the lance with one hand and casually asked, "Do you also admire Lord Renly?"
The Gold Cloaks were "omnipresent"; they had even dispatched some men to assist with the tourney, for instance, by handing lances to the participating knights.
The young Gold Cloak before him had served under Glyn for a time during the hunt in the Kingswood.
The young Gold Cloak's gaze drifted occasionally toward Lord Renly in the distance, his voice filled with reverence. "Yes, Lord Glynn!"
Once old Glyn had steadied his lance, the Gold Cloak withdrew his hand and added, "Lord Renly is very kind to us. He is a good man."
Glyn nodded slightly. Lord Renly could converse cordially with anyone, whether they were high-born lords or low-born serving girls.
Glyn showed a faint smile. "Regrettably, I'm not one for holding back."
The young Gold Cloak hesitated, then cautiously asked, "Could you go a little easy on him?"
"Go."
With a clang, Glyn pulled down his visor and urged his steed to the starting line at the edge of the lists.
...
Lord Renly was clad in deep green plate armor crafted from fine steel. Atop his stag-antlered helm, two magnificent golden antlers gleamed.
The tourney horn blared, "Wuuuuu-wuuu-wuuu!"
Almost simultaneously, both riders spurred their horses and charged forward, the ground trembling with their advance.
Glyn leaned forward, his blue cloak embroidered with golden swamp roses flapping in the wind.
Through the slit of his visor, Lord Renly stared at his charging opponent. With his ample experience, he had already adjusted his posture and was ready to thrust his lance at any moment.
*Clang! Clang!*... *A good opening!* Lord Renly was about to attack when he was suddenly struck hard in the chest, almost flying backward from his warhorse... *Thud!* He crashed heavily to the ground.
A collective gasp went through the crowd.
Glyn took off his helmet, shook his hair, and prepared to ride a lap around the lists, as was customary, to accept the fervent cheers of the spectators.
*Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!*
When Lord Renly picked himself up from the ground, the entire crowd cheered for him... King Robert's younger brother had always been well-liked. He took off his helmet, held it in his hands, and bowed gracefully toward the viewing stands. The cheers grew even more frantic.
Lord Glyn, the victor, was ignored.
He felt the direction of the wind, spurred his steed, and rode past Lord Renly from upwind, kicking up a large cloud of dust.
"Cough, cough!" Lord Renly, who had been closing his eyes to enjoy the cheers, was suddenly engulfed by the dust and couldn't help but cough loudly.
Laughter erupted all around, with King Robert's voice being the loudest.
...
In the royal viewing box, King Robert roared with laughter. He had always enjoyed seeing his acquaintances suffer setbacks.
King Robert picked up a goblet and drained a large gulp of wine, letting out a satisfied sigh.
"Eddard, this lad isn't bad, eh?"
With a *thud*, he put down the goblet and added, "Renly, that fool. After losing, he didn't clear out quickly, still wanting to stand there like a victor... Hahaha, he ran into a young man who doesn't give a damn!"
Lord Eddard glanced at Queen Cersei beside him, who wore a smug smile.
"That's how a young man should act."
"Hahaha, how wild we were at his age. I remember Jon was always worried."
"Truly beautiful memories..." Lord Eddard smiled.
Queen Cersei took a sip of summerwine. She gave a cold smile; if he liked reminiscing about the past so much, she would see to it that he joined his old acquaintances as soon as possible.
...
In the afternoon, Glyn first defeated a sellsword knight clad in a checkered cloak, then unhorsed Sandor Clegane, the Hound.
Jaime's performance was also brilliant; as if performing an equestrian show, he gracefully unhorsed Ser Andar Royce and Lord Brys Caron from Dorne. Then, after a fierce exchange of several rounds against Ser Barristan Selmy, he claimed victory.
Ser Gregor Clegane, known as The Mountain, stood nearly eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms as thick as small tree trunks. His steed looked like a toy horse beneath his armored legs, and the lance in his hand seemed like a broom handle. He fiercely defeated opponent after opponent, and almost everyone he unhorsed suffered serious injuries.
The Knight of Flowers charged three times. First, he defeated three members of the Kingsguard, then he faced the younger of the Royce brothers. His family's ancestral runes seemed no match for the Knight of Flowers' valor. Robar, dazed, dizzy, and unable to move, was carried back to his tent on a stretcher.
The thunder of warhorse hooves echoed as the jousts continued all day, trampling the tourney grounds into a desolate, ruined wasteland.
In the end, only four men remained in the lists: Ser Greene Kleb, Ser Jaime Lannister, Ser Loras Tyrell, and Ser Gregor Clegane.
By then, the moon had already risen, and the people were weary. King Robert announced that the last three matches of the joust would be held the next morning, followed by the grand melee and the archery competition.
Everyone then headed toward the river for the tourney's evening feast.
Inside the encampment, six astonishingly large oxen slowly turned on roasting spits, while cooks busily basted them with butter and spices until the meat was fragrant and tender, dripping with fat. Outside the tents, large dining tables and long benches were set up, laden with sweet beets, strawberries, and freshly baked bread.
...
Bards sat before the king's pavilion, letting beautiful music drift through the twilight. A juggler tossed burning wooden clubs into the air. The king's fool, Moon Boy, dressed in motley of five or six colors, danced on stilts and mocked everyone present with his witty and venomous tongue, eliciting continuous laughter from the crowd.
Sansa and Septa Mordane were seated to the left of the king and queen. When Prince Joffrey sat down to her right, she felt her heart flutter like a trapped bird.
Joffrey's hair gleamed like real gold. He wore a dark blue doublet embroidered with two rows of golden lion heads, and on his brow rested a delicate coronet of yellow gold and sapphires.
Sansa thought Joffrey looked as dashing as a prince from a song, and she was completely captivated.
Joffrey, with an elegant smile, leaned down and kissed the back of Sansa's hand.
"My dearest Lady Sansa, you are too enchanting."
Hearing Joffrey's tender praise, Sansa's heart seemed to sing.
Sansa pursed her lips and smiled faintly, trying her best to appear prim and proper. She wanted to seem polite and composed in front of Joffrey.
Sansa and Joffrey spoke of the tourney.