DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 2 - CLASH OF THE KINGS

Ser Barristan I

The sun was visible in the sky, throwing light from behind the grey skies above Queenscrown. When he'd sworn his services to prince Aegon, or Jon as he preferred to be called, laying fishing traps was not the sort of work he was expecting to do. Guarding a King was to prevent him from being killed, and keeping him safe when he was trying to be inconspicuous.

Prince Aegon, struggling with the thought of being protected, after all, he was used to being the one protecting everyone else. That was not much of a surprise. When Ser Barristan had seen Jon sparring in the yard, he had witnessed what could only be described as an exceptional warrior. A man used to war and used every weakness to his advantage. That wasn't to say he wasn't skilled in the ways of fighting in tourneys. Ser Barristan suspected the only man in the Seven Kingdoms who would give Jon a difficult time, would be Ser Jaime Lannister. Ser Barristan himself, certainly no longer of an age to beat the King, but that wasn't his duty. He was there to protect the Prince and by extension, the royal family.

Only a few short days had been spent with the Prince, and Ser Barristan was impressed by the lad. He reminded him of Rhaegar in his mannerisms and in the way he spoke, despite the northern accent. Jon's features were also similar to his father, although the colouring was polar opposite. Like Rhaegar, Aegon had an intense sense of purpose. But their most similar feature was their broodiness. A darkness hung over him, akin to his father. The only time it shifted was when Sansa was by his side. She was part of him, which was why protecting her was protecting the Prince.

One barrier Ser Barristan had yet to overcome was what to call the Prince. Right now, he was Lord Jon Whitestark. Some referred to him as Jon Snow, but his real name was Aegon Targaryen, a King in his own right, but never crowned. Should he be a Prince or a King? Was it Jon or Aegon? Of course, in public, he was Lord Whitestark, and in private he preferred Jon. But when the time came, it would be King Aegon. To use a regnal name was not unheard of. It was well documented Aegon the fifth was known to those close to him as Egg. It seemed the next Aegon would follow his predecessor.

Lady Sansa, as he was now used to calling her, was fast becoming like a daughter to him. Her highborn status was always clear. She was trained to run a castle. However, she was adept at dealing with highborn and smallfolk alike. She was even friendly with the Freefolk. Lady Sansa, was fast becoming like a daughter to him. Or more like a granddaughter, he had to admit.

Ser Barristan knew his role would become more administrative than anything else. In truth, the role of Lord commander of the kingsguard always was. Small adventures, whilst not desirable for protection purposes, were usually an entertaining change. Today's challenge was no different.

Ser Barristan had done many things in his life while protecting the royal family. He had donned disguises, pretended to be someone else, but laying fishing traps, was a first for him. He chuckled to himself as he lay them down, one after another, how very different this royal family was from any other he had protected.

To ensure his own safety, he wore a brigandine under his furs, which were worn to disguise him, allowing him to pass as one of the Freefolk. The furs themselves offered some protection. An arrow would pierce less flesh in the thick furs than a white cloak.

Across the lake from Lady Sansa, Ser Barristan watched on carefully. An occasional wave, just to make sure she could see him. He didn't like the fact he was so far away, but she was surrounded by six other trusted Stark soldiers, all trained to watch out for her. There were also two direwolves prowling around to fend off any dogs. The wolves were the size small ponies, and their mauls were twice the size, and ten times the strength of the strongest dog. Not only that, but they were surprisingly nimble compared to large dogs. His place was to keep watch from the other side and alert the rest if anyone should attack her.

The task wasn't too difficult. Ser Barristan pulled each trap down and rowed out to the middle of the lake, where his were to be laid, and dropped them down. The lake wasn't big enough for large nets, there weren't enough fish in it. Around a hundred fish of varying types, per day, could be caught. And considering there were now only around five hundred people in Queenscrown, it was enough to bulk up the variety of meals they ate.

Ser Barristan laid the last of his traps and rowed back to shore. He checked on Lady Sansa, who was still laying hers. He gave her a quick wave, and she waved back, then he pointed to the direction he came, although he was unsure whether she saw him. But he couldn't wait here, it would be too obvious. Instead, he packed up his things and made to leave. Of course, he wasn't truly leaving Sansa. He was moving to a position closer to her.

About a five-minute walk up the tributary was a small bridge, covering the final sluice gate before the tributary ran into the lake. The mule wouldn't be able to cross, but the archer who was following him would take it back to Queenscrown, while he crossed and accompanied Lady Sansa.

The bridge itself was newly constructed, made from the sturdy soldier pines, collected from the Wolfswood. The wood was strong enough to carry the weight of an ox, but to not use too much wood, it was only made wide enough for one person to cross at a time. Only one wooden handrail was required, while the other was made of rope.

The water underneath was only waist high, but as they were on a hill, it was would drown anyone who was unable to swim. Fortunately for Ser Barristan, he was more than competent in that area.

Ser Barristan placed his hand on the wooden rail and stepped upon the bridge. It had rained the previous day, thus it was slippy, therefore he was grateful for the support. When he reached the third step, he heard a sound from behind. Ser Barristan turned to see if there was anyone around, but he saw nothing. It was probably the archer walking his mule. He turned back to continue the last few steps along the bridge, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of his left shoulder.

An arrow was stuck out of the back of his shoulder. Ser Barristan tried to pull it out with the other hand. Another arrow hit him, this time it was his right shoulder. The pain was intense, as it had gone all the way through, as if it was from close range. What was worse, it knocked him off balance. His right hand was no longer gripping the wooden rail, and the force of the shot threw him to his knees. Ser Barristan tried to grab the rope, but he could barely lift his arms, let alone support his weight.

When he finally grabbed hold of the rope, he looked around to see where the arrows were coming from, but he saw no one around. Lady Sansa, I must get to Lady Sansa. Ser Barristan pulled on the rope, trying to get to his feet, but the rope gave way. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a young man with a bow over his shoulder, and a knife in his hand, cutting the thick rope. Donned in Stark armour, he had dark hair, pale eyes, and wore a manic grin.

"Fancy a swim old man?" The man asked as the rope broke.

The last words Ser Barristan heard as he fell into the ice cold water, were "Thank you, Ser Barristan, for leading me to Lady Sansa." Then everything went dark.