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Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Ser Galahad vs Ser Arthur Dayne
...
Richard POV

The sun was high, casting a golden glow across the melee grounds as the herald called each name loudly, stoking the cheers from the crowd.

Nobles and commoners alike filled the stands, a roar of anticipation rippling through them. Moments ago, I arrived, just in time for the spectacle.

As my gaze swept across the larger arena, I counted twenty men including me, each of us taking our place in a big circle.

It was a free-for-all, with alliances formed and broken on a whim.

Yet I knew I could trust my allies for this round. Gerion, Tygett, and Oberyn stood with me. Together, we made a deal not to face each other.

Across the grounds, the gleam of white cloaks caught my eye—Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Arthur Dayne, the best of the Kingsguard, who I knew would also undoubtedly team up, and wouldn't face each other.

Ser Arthur met my stare with a smoldering intensity. I could feel the weight of his disdain, the sting of my rejection of his prince's offer still lingering.

Testing myself against him, and Ser Barristan, would be a thrill, but that would have to wait for the final round.

Among the crowd, my gaze lingered on Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish. He stood strong and resolute, a reminder of my jousting victory on the fifth tilt—a hard-fought triumph that had earned his respect.

I had my plans for this round. My aim was clear: to ensure the final seven included Oberyn, Gerion, Tygett, Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, Ser Brynden, and myself.

The reason was that in the next round I would show everyone my capabilities against the best.

By the end of the tourney, I will rise from this field as the champion of the melee, leaving no doubt in the minds of anyone watching.

When this tourney ended, the name of Ser Galahad would be spoken with reverence.

Beside me, Gerion and Tygett nodded, determination in their eyes as they stood in Lannister red.

I returned their nod, then turned to Oberyn on my left, his spear in hand and his smile wickedly confident. He met my gaze, giving a nod of his own.

We were ready.

"And now, with these twenty brave men, let the round commence!" the herald's voice rang across the grounds.

The trumpet sounded, sharp and clear, and the match began. I put on my helmet, confidence brimming from my action.

My twin swords were planted firmly in the ground as I took in the scene around me. The melee had begun cautiously, with every man sizing up the others, each wary of being the first to make a reckless move.

I stood still, arms crossed over my chestplate, watching as the field gradually came alive.

To my left, Oberyn was already engaged with a Lannister knight, Ser Boros Blount, and it was clear from Oberyn's relaxed stance and playful movements that he was toying with him.

Not far off, Gerion was locked in a match of strength and skill with Alester Florent, a Tyrell knight, their swords clashing in rapid succession.

Meanwhile, Tygett, wielding his greatsword, pressed hard against Jason Mallister, who dodged and blocked, showing surprising skill with his sword and shield.

A sudden awareness prickled at the edge of my senses. I turned, instinctively pulling one of my swords from the ground just in time to block a blow aimed at me.