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Castle Stokeworth

It was a week of riding to reach Castle Stokeworth. With only one Inn between there and King’s Landing, Ser Damon had little respite during his journey. 

His horse fared somewhat better, at least in regards to food if not for rest. Damon had chosen to bring along a bag of oats to feed Storm Spirit. It was for the best. A tired man could ride a horse easily enough, but how well could a tired horse carry a man?

Ser Damon had to settle for dried and salted pork - as well as whatever fruits and nuts he could scavenge on the way to Stokeworth. He didn’t find much, but even a little food was better than no food at all. 

Ser Damon considered himself most fortunate. He reached his destination with little trouble. He could have just as easily been set upon by bandits - especially so with deserters and other desperate men roaming the countryside.

The young knight knew he was a lucky bastard. He felt as such even as he saw mounted Stokeworth guards approaching him with spears at the ready. If they were going to kill him, he figured they would have done it already.

They trotted up to him, two guardsmen in ringmail over tan leather. And just as Ser Damon expected, they chose words over violence.

“Castle Stokeworth sees few visitors.” Said the elder guardsman, a stout man with a black beard flecked with grey. He eyed Ser Damon with muted caution. “Merchants, peddlers, and acting troupes mostly. Less so during this time of war. A lone rider is a curious sight indeed.”

The other guardsman, a tall and slender fellow with a long, thin nose, gave an assenting grunt. He trotted his horse to Ser Damon’s opposite flank. It left Damon and Storm Spirit caught between the two guards and their mounts. The bearded man gave Damon’s sheathed sword a long, quiet look. The message was clear.

But Ser Damon did not wilt under their sharp eyes. He had nothing to fear, after all. The guards wanted to dissuade an armed stranger from drawing steel. And Ser Damon wasn’t looking to start a fight. At least, not yet.

“What brings you to these parts, stranger?” Asked the slender fellow. Ser Damon turned to face him and saw that his eyes were cold as death. A war veteran perhaps? A killer, certainly.

The Bastard of Blackhaven gave a wry grin.

“I’m here to make my fortune, ser.” Damon answered truthfully... for a certain definition of ‘fortune’.

The older guard made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a snort. The horse underneath him, a large brown rounsey, tossed its head some, like it was sharing a laugh with its rider.

“Stokeworth is a queer choice for a man seeking wealth.” The bearded man offered Damon a flat look. “We have plenty of food, aye. Farmland for miles. Not so much gold, I’m afraid.”

Ser Damon remained relaxed. He kept his body loose and gave a simple shrug.

“There are ways other than gold for a man to make his fortune.” He said to the guardsmen. He let his hand fall upon his lap, inches from the hilt of his sword. The bearded man’s eyes followed along. Then the guard gave a short nod, understanding.

“A hedge knight.” The bearded man guessed. A somewhat correct answer, to the guard’s credit. But Ser Damon wasn’t at Stokeworth on knightly business. His sword was sworn to the Queen. And he was here to kill a man in her name. The bearded man set his hard eyes upon Ser Damon again. “What is your name, traveler?”

“Ser Walder Stone. I hail from Wickenden.” The lie came easily, his words flowing from his lips like they were the purest truth. Ser Damon had long since learned the power that came from lies. He’d have nothing if not for his talent in tongue.

It was the other guard who spoke next.

“A valeman.” The taller man gave a sniff, regarding ‘Ser Walder’ with dismissive eyes. “You’re a long way from home, Ser. What made you believe your fortune awaits you at Castle Stokeworth?”

My lovely lioness told me so…

A twistedly romantic thought, but not at all far from the truth. Ser Damon was here to make his fortune. He would kill a man for his Lannister queen. He would once more prove his loyalty and secure his position as her most devoted sword.

But first Ser Damon needed to find him, this up-jumped cutthroat his queen so despised. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. A thug hired by Queen Cersei’s dwarf brother to help him terrorize the Red Keep during his time as Hand of the King.

“The new Lord of Stokeworth rose from humble beginnings, I’ve heard.” Ser Damon began to explain. “A hired sword made into a lord, just like that. An inspiring tale to a hedge knight such as myself.”

The bearded guard’s took on a look of distaste at the mention of his new liege. Ser Damon glanced towards his partner and saw his pale face had twisted into a grimace.

“Ser Bronn’s rise in station was quite sudden, certainly.” The bearded one said flatly.

“You mean Lord Bronn, I’m sure?” Ser Damon noted, wearing an innocent grin.

The guard didn’t find the barb nearly as humorous as Ser Damon did. He gave the hedge knight a long, quiet look.

“Of course.” He said finally, without a hint of mirth. “My mistake.”

They like the man as much as the Queen does… Curious… But all the better for me. Disgruntled guardsmen are lazy guardsmen.

Ser Damon decided not to press his luck any further. His next words certainly weren’t going to earn him their trust.

“I’ve come to pledge my sword to Lord Bronn’s service.” Ser Walder Stone spoke with conviction befitting a knight. Bastard or no, he was pretending to be a man of the Vale. And the men of Vale were nothing if not the chivalrous sort. Aside from the mountain clan savages, of course. “I’m certain he’ll take me on. An up-jumped knight has few friends among the nobles, I’m sure. He’ll need all the support he can get.”

The guards’ expressions didn’t sour as Damon expected. If they felt ill feelings towards the newly arrived hedge knight, they didn’t show it. Instead, their faces became like stone, hard and unmoving.

“Your solidarity with a fellow lowborn is inspiring, truly.” The bearded man again spoke flatly. He jerked the reins of his horse, drawing the beast back some steps. Then he gave his cohort a look and a moment later the other man did the same, leaving Damon no longer flanked on both sides. “The Lord of Stokeworth is not here at the castle presently, I’m afraid. He’s off on a hunt. Him and a half-dozen men.”

“Such a small hunting party.” Ser Damon noted. Curiosity needled the back of his mind.

“Lord Bronn insisted.” The slender guardsman cut in, his voice sour as he stressed his liege’s title. “The fewer the men, the quicker they could move. Or so the man claimed. He took his own men, too. None of the household guards.”

“I see. I don’t suppose either of you know when your liege might return?” Ser Damon asked.

“I can’t say. I’m unfamiliar with the new lord’s hunting habits.” The bearded man answered. Then he turned his horse and lazily gestured for the hedge knight to move on. His fellow guard followed close behind, not bothering to spare Damon and Storm Spirit another glance.

Definitely a disgruntled bunch, these guardsmen. And I can’t blame them, if the stories Queen Cersei told me of this Bronn fellow are true.

Ser Damon said nothing for a moment, simply absorbing the information. He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. This required a change of plans. But as his luck would have it, his mission might have been made a great deal easier.

For one, Damon wouldn’t need to murder a man in his own castle. He had never considered himself the superstitious sort, but to break the sacred custom of guest right… Even under a false identity, even under orders from the queen herself… Ser Damon was glad he wouldn’t have to join the ranks of the reviled Freys.

And there was the boon that he wouldn’t need to escape Stokeworth afterwards. Fleeing from a forest was certainly a great deal easier than fleeing a guarded castle.

My quarry is out in the woods, surrounded by six or so armed men… I’ve faced worse odds before… But tracking him might be a challenge.

Ser Damon kept his mount well in hand. Storm Spirit gave a snort, as if the horse shared his rider’s excitement. 

He would find Bronn of the Blackwater. He would put an end to another of Cersei’s enemies and secure his place by her side. 

And so too would he earn his sweet, most desired reward…