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- Джордж Мартин
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The
Kingslayer
rode
brilliantly
.
He
overthrew
Ser
Andar
Royce
and
the
Marcher
Lord
Bryce
Caron
as
easily
as
if
he
were
riding
at
rings
,
and
then
took
a
hard-fought
match
from
white-haired
Barristan
Selmy
,
who
had
won
his
first
two
tilts
against
men
thirty
and
forty
years
his
junior
.
Sandor
Clegane
and
his
immense
brother
,
Ser
Gregor
the
Mountain
,
seemed
unstoppable
as
well
,
riding
down
one
foe
after
the
next
in
ferocious
style
.
The
most
terrifying
moment
of
the
day
came
during
Ser
Gregor
's
second
joust
,
when
his
lance
rode
up
and
struck
a
young
knight
from
the
Vale
under
the
gorget
with
such
force
that
it
drove
through
his
throat
,
killing
him
instantly
.
The
youth
fell
not
ten
feet
from
where
Sansa
was
seated
.
The
point
of
Ser
Gregor
's
lance
had
snapped
off
in
his
neck
,
and
his
life
's
blood
flowed
out
in
slow
pulses
,
each
weaker
than
the
one
before
.
His
armor
was
shiny
new
;
a
bright
streak
of
fire
ran
down
his
outstretched
arm
,
as
the
steel
caught
the
light
.
Then
the
sun
went
behind
a
cloud
,
and
it
was
gone
.
His
cloak
was
blue
,
the
color
of
the
sky
on
a
clear
summer
's
day
,
trimmed
with
a
border
of
crescent
moons
,
but
as
his
blood
seeped
into
it
,
the
cloth
darkened
and
the
moons
turned
red
,
one
by
one
.
Jeyne
Poole
wept
so
hysterically
that
Septa
Mordane
finally
took
her
off
to
regain
her
composure
,
but
Sansa
sat
with
her
hands
folded
in
her
lap
,
watching
with
a
strange
fascination
.
She
had
never
seen
a
man
die
before
.
She
ought
to
be
crying
too
,
she
thought
,
but
the
tears
would
not
come
.
Perhaps
she
had
used
up
all
her
tears
for
Lady
and
Bran
.
It
would
be
different
if
it
had
been
Jory
or
Ser
Rodrik
or
Father
,
she
told
herself
.
The
young
knight
in
the
blue
cloak
was
nothing
to
her
,
some
stranger
from
the
Vale
of
Arryn
whose
name
she
had
forgotten
as
soon
as
she
heard
it
.
And
now
the
world
would
forget
his
name
too
,
Sansa
realized
;
there
would
be
no
songs
sung
for
him
.
That
was
sad
.
After
they
carried
off
the
body
,
a
boy
with
a
spade
ran
onto
the
field
and
shoveled
dirt
over
the
spot
where
he
had
fallen
,
to
cover
up
the
blood
.
Then
the
jousts
resumed
.
Ser
Balon
Swann
also
fell
to
Gregor
,
and
Lord
Renly
to
the
Hound
.
Renly
was
unhorsed
so
violently
that
he
seemed
to
fly
backward
off
his
charger
,
legs
in
the
air
.
His
head
hit
the
ground
with
an
audible
crack
that
made
the
crowd
gasp
,
but
it
was
just
the
golden
antler
on
his
helm
.
One
of
the
tines
had
snapped
off
beneath
him
.
When
Lord
Renly
climbed
to
his
feet
,
the
commons
cheered
wildly
,
for
King
Robert
's
handsome
young
brother
was
a
great
favorite
.
He
handed
the
broken
tine
to
his
conqueror
with
a
gracious
bow
.
The
Hound
snorted
and
tossed
the
broken
antler
into
the
crowd
,
where
the
commons
began
to
punch
and
claw
over
the
little
bit
of
gold
,
until
Lord
Renly
walked
out
among
them
and
restored
the
peace
.
By
then
Septa
Mordane
had
returned
,
alone
.
Jeyne
had
been
feeling
ill
,
she
explained
;
she
had
helped
her
back
to
the
castle
.
Sansa
had
almost
forgotten
about
Jeyne
.
Later
a
hedge
knight
in
a
checkered
cloak
disgraced
himself
by
killing
Beric
Dondarrion
's
horse
,
and
was
declared
forfeit
.
Lord
Beric
shifted
his
saddle
to
a
new
mount
,
only
to
be
knocked
right
off
it
by
Thoros
of
Myr
.
Ser
Aron
Santagar
and
Lothor
Brune
tilted
thrice
without
result
;
Ser
Aron
fell
afterward
to
Lord
Jason
Mallister
,
and
Brune
to
Yohn
Royce
's
younger
son
,
Robar
.
In
the
end
it
came
down
to
four
;
the
Hound
and
his
monstrous
brother
Gregor
,
Jaime
Lannister
the
Kingslayer
,
and
Ser
Loras
Tyrell
,
the
youth
they
called
the
Knight
of
Flowers
.
Ser
Loras
was
the
youngest
son
of
Mace
Tyrell
,
the
Lord
of
Highgarden
and
Warden
of
the
South
.
At
sixteen
,
he
was
the
youngest
rider
on
the
field
,
yet
he
had
unhorsed
three
knights
of
the
Kingsguard
that
morning
in
his
first
three
jousts
.
Sansa
had
never
seen
anyone
so
beautiful
.
His
plate
was
intricately
fashioned
and
enameled
as
a
bouquet
of
a
thousand
different
flowers
,
and
his
snow-white
stallion
was
draped
in
a
blanket
of
red
and
white
roses
.
After
each
victory
,
Ser
Loras
would
remove
his
helm
and
ride
slowly
round
the
fence
,
and
finally
pluck
a
single
white
rose
from
the
blanket
and
toss
it
to
some
fair
maiden
in
the
crowd
.
His
last
match
of
the
day
was
against
the
younger
Royce
.
Ser
Robar
's
ancestral
runes
proved
small
protection
as
Ser
Loras
split
his
shield
and
drove
him
from
his
saddle
to
crash
with
an
awful
clangor
in
the
dirt
.
