The Sworn Sword

Dunk made himself drink it all. Afterward he flexed the fingers of his sword hand, and then the other. At least my hands still work, and my arms. "What… what did I hurt?"

"What not?" The maester snorted. "A broken ankle, a sprained knee, a broken collarbone, bruising… your upper torso is largely green and yellow and your right arm is a purply black. I thought your skull was cracked as well, but it appears not. There is that gash in your face, ser. You will have a scar, I fear. Oh, and you had drowned by the time we pulled you from the water".

"Drowned?" said Dunk.

"I never suspected that one man could swallow so much water, not even a man as large as you, ser. Count yourself fortunate that I am ironborn. The priests of the Drowned God know how to drown a man and bring him back, and I have made a study of their beliefs and customs".

I drowned. Dunk tried to sit again, but the strength was not in him. I drowned in water that did not even come up to my neck. He laughed, then groaned in pain. "Ser Lucas?"

"Dead. Did you doubt it?"

No. Dunk doubted many things, but not that. He remembered how the strength had gone out of the Longinch's limbs, all at once. "Egg", he got out. "I want Egg".

"Hunger is a good sign", the maester said, "but it is sleep you need just now, not food".

Dunk shook his head, and regretted it at once. "Egg is my squire.. ".

"Is he? A brave lad, and stronger than he looks. He was the one to pull you from the stream. He helped us get that armor off you, too, and rode with you in the wayn when we brought you here. He would not sleep himself, but sat by your side with your sword across his lap, in case someone tried to do you harm. He even suspected me, and insisted that I taste anything I meant to feed you. A queer child, but devoted".

"Where is he?"

"Ser Eustace asked the boy to attend him at the wedding feast. There was no one else on his side. It would have been discourteous for him to refuse".

"Wedding feast?" Dunk did not understand.

"You would not know, of course. Coldmoat and Standfast were reconciled after your battle. Lady Rohanne begged leave of old Ser Eustace to cross his land and visit Addam's grave, and he granted her that right. She knelt before the blackberries and began to weep, and he was so moved that he went to comfort her. They spent the whole night talking of young Addam and my lady's noble father. Lord Wyman and Ser Eustace were fast friends, until the Blackfyre Rebellion. His lordship and my lady were wed this morning, by our good Septon Sefton. Eustace Osgrey is the lord of Coldmoat, and his chequy lion flies beside the Webber spider on every tower and wall".

Dunk's world was spinning slowly all around him. That potion. He's put me back to sleep. He closed his eyes, and let all the pain drain out of him. He could hear the ravens quork ing and screaming at each other, and the sound of his own breath, and something else as well… a softer sound, steady, heavy, somehow soothing. "What's that?" he murmured sleepily. "That sound?.. ".

"That?" The maester listened. "That's just rain".

He did not see her till the day they took their leave.

"This is folly, ser", Septon Sefton complained, as Dunk limped heavily across the yard, swinging his splinted foot and leaning on a crutch. "Maester Cerrick says you are not half healed as yet, and this rain… you're like to catch a chill, if you do not drown again. At least wait for the rain to stop".

"That may be years". Dunk was grateful to the fat septon, who had visited him near every day… to pray for him, ostensibly, though more time seemed to be taken up with tales and gossip. He would miss his loose and lively tongue and cheerful company, but that changed nothing. "I need to go".

The rain was lashing down around them, a thousand cold gray whips upon his back. His cloak was already sodden. It was the white wool cloak Ser Eustace had given him, with the green-and-gold-checkered border. The old knight had pressed it on him once again, as a parting gift. "For your courage and leal service, ser", he said. The brooch that pinned the cloak at his shoulder was a gift as well; an ivory spider brooch with silver legs. Clusters of crushed garnets made spots upon its back.

"I hope this is not some mad quest to hunt down Bennis", Septon Sefton said. "You are so bruised and battered that I would fear for you, if that one found you in such a state".