WELL FLAYED [Game Of Thrones: The Boltons]

16. On The Run

AENGUS SPEARSHIELD WAS SPARRING with Cornelius The Cutthroat on the training grounds of the courtyard.

Their blunt swords were clashing and clanging like metal ones with the intensity of their duel. They could not fake the determination to beat one another, both were aggressive and serious, like they were in a real battlefield.

Some locals stopped to watch, some passed by - already used of their known dispute. But with Ramsay Snow, it was always entertaining to watch them two. If he ordered them to fight to the death, they would gladly do it.

"You're getting slow older brother." Taunted Cornelius with his infamous smirk as he defendingly pointed his sword at Aengus.

"I am not your brother!" He lunged forward with a jab of his sword, but Cornelius was quick to swipe it with his own.

Cornelius went to the side, but his stance was still alert. "But we share the same mother, do we not?"

Aengus eyed him darkly. "What kind of a son kills his own mother..."

Cornelius only laughed. "One with an ambition."

Aengus charged at him again, but with more force. They crashed hard against each other that they both lost their grip on their blunt swords. Cornelius landed on his back on the muddy ground, while Aengus toppled him. The older half brother knuckled his fists and it all hit the face of Cornelius. Blood sprayed in the air with every punch that resulted a broken bone and ripped skin. The big guard found it hard to stop; he had wanted for years to avenge the murder of their mother, Rumina Bolton, but the thought of being a kinslayer like his half brothers kept him at bay. Though now that one of the culprits was lying before him, it tempted him to end it.

"Aengus...."

The cold icy tone of his master enveloped his skin, making him shudder with goosebumps. The next punch that he was about to give, hung above with his raised hand, halting by the moment.

"Get off your brother."

Aengus did what was commanded, then stood attentively at the side. "Pardon me, Lord Ramsay." He bowed lowly. "He was provoking me."

Ramsay glanced at Cornelius, slowly getting up from the muddy ground. His broken nose and lip were bleeding profusely. "I don't want old grievances to be brought up."

With one lost tooth, Cornelius smiled, then smirked. "Aye, mi'lord, understood."

Ramsay turned to the stack of hays where a disheveled filthy Yorr sat. "Sheep?!"

Yorr immediately limped toward him, eyes on the ground - in fear to meet the hailstorm in his lord's icy pale gaze. "Fetch their swords and assist Cornelius."

The scared lad nodded then did what he said. When he got to the bleeding Cornelius to offer his help, Cornelius only laughed at his face then spat at him. His saliva mixed with blood landed on Yorr's forehead, and the guardsman continued to laugh.

"Come on, sheep! Help me by licking the mud off my boot!"

Yorr, without second thoughts, crouched down then neared his face to Cornelius' worn out boots dirtied with filth and mud. He stuck out his tongue and began licking the leather.

Cornelius chuckled at his pathetic sight, then glanced at Ramsay. "Mi'lord, you should give a new name to your pet."

"Oh? And what do you have in mind?"

"Bootlicker!" Then Cornelius burst out laughing again, while Aengus shook his head at the side.

Ramsay laughed a bit. "I might consider that."