The Sworn Sword

"Twenty– two. That's two more'n all your fingers and your toes, lunk. You have to kill them all, else they go telling tales". They circled round a deadfall. "We should of told Ser Useless the drought dried up his little pissant stream".

"Ser Eustace . You would have lied to him".

"Aye, and why not? Who's to tell him any different? The flies?" Bennis grinned a wet red grin. "Ser Useless never leaves the tower, except to see the boys down in the blackberries".

"A sworn sword owes his lord the truth".

"There's truths and truths, lunk. Some don't serve". He spat. "The gods make droughts. A man can't do a bloody buggering thing about the gods. The Red Widow, though… we tell Useless that bitch dog took his water, he'll feel honor-bound to take it back. Wait and see. He'll think he's got to do something ".

"He should. Our smallfolk need that water for their crops".

" Our smallfolk?" Ser Bennis brayed his laughter. "Was I off having a squat when Ser Useless made you his heir? How many smallfolk you figure you got? Ten? And that's counting Squinty Jeyne's half-wit son that don't know which end o' the ax to hold. Go make knights o' every one, and we'll have half as many as the Widow, and never mind her squires and her archers and the rest. You'd need both hands and both feet to count all them, and your bald-head boy's fingers and toes, too".

"I don't need toes to count". Dunk was sick of the heat, the flies, and the brown knight's company. He may have ridden with Ser Arlan once, but that was years and years ago. The man is grown mean and false and craven. He put his heels into his horse and trotted on ahead, to put the smell behind him.

Standfast was a castle only by courtesy. Though it stood bravely atop a rocky hill and could be seen for leagues around, it was no more than a towerhouse. A partial collapse a few centuries ago had required some rebuilding, so the north and west faces were pale gray stone above the windows, and the old black stone below. Turrets had been added to the roofline during the repair, but only on the sides that were rebuilt; at the other two corners crouched ancient stone grotesques, so badly abraded by wind and weather that it was hard to say what they had been. The pinewood roof was flat, but badly warped and prone to leaks.

A crooked path led from the foot of the hill up to the tower, so narrow it could only be ridden single file. Dunk led the way on the ascent, with Bennis just behind. He could see Egg above them, standing on a jut of rock in his floppy straw hat.

They reined up in front of the little daub-and-wattle stable that nestled at the tower's foot, half hidden under a misshapen heap of purple moss. The old man's gray gelding was in one of the stalls, next to Maester. Egg and Sam Stoops had gotten the wine inside, it seemed. Hens were wandering the yard. Egg trotted over. "Did you find what happened to the stream?"

"The Red Widow's dammed it up". Dunk dismounted, and gave Thunder's reins to Egg. "Don't let him drink too much at once".

"No, ser. I won't".

"Boy", Ser Bennis called. "You can take my horse as well".

Egg gave him an insolent look. "I'm not your squire".

That tongue of his will get him hurt one day, Dunk thought. "You'll take his horse, or you'll get a clout in the ear".

Egg made a sullen face, but did as he was bid. As he reached for the bridle, though, Ser Bennis hawked and spat. A glob of glistening red phlegm struck the boy between two toes. He gave the brown knight an icy look. "You spit on my foot, ser".

Bennis clambered to the ground. "Aye. Next time I'll spit in your face. I'll have none o' your bloody tongue".

Dunk could see the anger in the boy's eyes. "Tend to the horses, Egg", he said, before things got any worse. "We need to speak with Ser Eustace".

The only entrance into Standfast was through an oak-and-iron door twenty feet above them. The bottom steps were blocks of smooth black stone, so worn they were bowl-shaped in the middle. Higher up, they gave way to a steep wooden stair that could be swung up like a drawbridge in times of trouble. Dunk shooed the hens aside and climbed two steps at a time.

Standfast was bigger than it appeared. Its deep vaults and cellars occupied a good part of the hill on which it perched. Aboveground, the tower boasted four stories. The upper two had windows and balconies, the lower two only arrow slits. It was cooler inside, but so dim that Dunk had to let his eyes adjust. Sam Stoops' wife was on her knees by the hearth, sweeping out the ashes. "Is Ser Eustace above or below?" Dunk asked her.

"Up, ser". The old woman was so hunched that her head was lower than her shoulders. "He just come back from visiting the boys, down in the blackberries".