On the left was Gregor Clegane of House Lannister, the infamous "Mountain."
The man stood over eight feet tall, almost comparable to the giants beyond the Wall. His arms were as thick as tree trunks, his whole body knotted with muscle. Compared with him, the fine horse beneath him looked almost like a large dog.
In the latter days of Robert's Rebellion, it was this man who violated and murdered Prince Rhaegar's wife, Princess Elia Martell of Dorne.
That was why the Mountain was also the greatest enemy of Prince Doran of Dorne and the Red Viper, Oberyn Martell.
The knight on the right was the Knight of Flowers from House Tyrell of the Reach, Loras Tyrell, third son of the Duke of Highgarden.
He was Renly Baratheon's squire, and also his very close friend.
As for which one gave and which one took, which one was plug and which one was socket, that was unknown.
The Knight of Flowers was dressed in an outrageously flamboyant manner. His silver armor was enameled with pairs of green vines and blue flowers. The white horse beneath him was covered in a red blanket, decorated with freshly picked roses.
As he passed by the stands, Loras plucked one red rose after another from the blanket and tossed them toward the noble ladies and maidens in the crowd.
This drew wave after wave of startled cries.
Domeric glanced around the field. On the surface, this joust looked like the Mountain against the Knight of Flowers, but in truth, it was the Lannister faction led by Queen Cersei against the Stormlands faction led by Renly.
"Ser Domeric, why are you not taking part in this joust?" Sansa asked curiously from beside him.
"I have no interest in this sort of child's game. Besides, Lord Eddard did not agree to the king's planned tourney, so there is no prize money for the winner."
…
His gaze returned to the field.
Domeric had already noticed that the Mountain's warhorse seemed a little wrong. It kept stamping its hooves, tossing its head, and screaming.
"Ser Domeric, is there something wrong with the Mountain's horse?" Sharp-eyed Arya had clearly noticed as well.
"No. The problem is with the Knight of Flowers' horse."
The corner of Domeric's mouth lifted. "Because that is a mare. A mare in heat."
Meanwhile, Gregor Clegane's mount was a rather large stallion, ill-tempered, wild enough, and lacking in obedience.
One could imagine what would happen when a wild stallion met a mare in heat.
How despicable.
These Reachmen really were something.
As they spoke, the two knights had already begun their charge.
Sure enough, when the two horses drew close, Gregor the Mountain's stallion suddenly became restless.
It swayed left and right, trying to throw the knight off its back. Just as Gregor the Mountain tried to regain control of the stallion,
Loras came charging in like a streak of silver lightning.
No martial honor at all!
Bang!
The tip of the lance struck at precisely the right moment, knocking Gregor the Mountain down. Because he was so enormous, he even dragged his warhorse down with him.
Cheers erupted at once.
The Knight of Flowers, Loras, had won with ease.
Just as Loras leapt down from his horse, lifted his visor, and accepted the crowd's cheers,
Gregor the Mountain rose in a fury. From somewhere, he drew a greatsword as broad as a door panel and brought it down, chopping off his own horse's entire head with a single stroke!
Blood sprayed out, soaking the Mountain's entire body and making him look like a demon crawling out of hell.
That bloody sight instantly turned the cheers in the field into screams.
And it was not over. Gregor the Mountain charged straight at Loras, holding his blood-dripping sword.
Loras realized something was wrong and hurriedly tried to mount his horse and flee.
But the Mountain had already reached him. The greatsword swept out.
Clang!
Loras felt a burst of agony in his chest, and then his entire body was knocked from the saddle.
He struggled to climb back up, but found he had no strength at all. He could only watch in terror as that greatsword, wider than his body, swung toward his neck!
He was about to be beheaded!
Clang!
A heavy arrow struck directly into the armor on Gregor the Mountain's arm, ringing sharply!
In the crowd, Domeric could be seen holding an iron-ribbed bow that was over a hundred pounds in draw weight and nearly half a man tall. The arrow he had fired scraped out a string of sparks, halting the Mountain's attack.
Only then did the shrill whistle arrive, the sound of the shaft cutting through the air. It was far slower than the arrow itself.
One could see just how fast that arrow had been!
With such tremendous force, it punched straight through the Mountain's arm and armor alike.
Gregor the Mountain let out a roar. Ignoring the pain, he yanked the arrow from his arm and once again swung his sword toward Loras.
Domeric swiftly drew the bowstring, nocked another heavy arrow, and fired again.
A streak of force shot straight toward Gregor the Mountain's throat.
The cold, dim glimmer was like a ghost from hell.
This fatal shot seemed to force out all of the Mountain's survival instincts.
He gave up attacking Loras and dodged aside with unbelievable speed, narrowly diving beneath several shields.
That icy arrow grazed the Mountain's neck, sending a string of blood flowers flying.
A chunk of flesh had been torn from the Mountain's jaw by the arrowhead. It had only been a hair's breadth away from piercing his throat.
Domeric stood with the bow in hand, his expression cold and severe, a trace of regret in his eyes.
What a pity.
If he had been able to shoot Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, dead with one arrow here, then House Lannister would have lost one of its arms.
The coming battle for King's Landing would have been much easier.
…
The turmoil did not stop because Domeric had forced the Mountain back. Instead, it grew worse.
The Lannister bannermen gathered one after another, facing off against Renly's bannermen.
Clang!
Clang!
…
The sound of weapons being drawn rang out without end. Many had already pulled out their knightly swords.
Cold light flashed. Killing intent spread.
The entire feast became solemn and silent.
"The joust is over, yet you still intend to harm and murder someone. What is the meaning of this?" Renly Baratheon, Duke of Storm's End and Master of Laws, stepped forward and questioned them.
"You were the ones who first used the despicable trick of a mare!" someone said indignantly.
…
The two factions stood against each other, swords drawn, tension stretched to the limit. It looked as if a riot was about to break out.
Just as the chaos was about to erupt, King Robert's booming voice finally rang out.
"In the name of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, I command you to stop at once!"
The knights who had drawn their swords hesitated when they heard this.
Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, seeing that he could not kill the Knight of Flowers, Loras,
threw down the greatsword in his hand, gave an angry snort, and turned away without saying a word. He ignored King Robert in the high seat as if he did not take him seriously at all.
Only then did this farce, which had nearly ended in bloodshed, come to an end.
The arrogance of House Lannister could be seen clearly.
…
"Thank you, Ser Domeric. You saved my life!"
Loras said with lingering fear.
"You are welcome. It is what a knight should do."
Domeric put away the iron-ribbed bow. Since Loras had not died, his purpose had been achieved.
In the original story, it was the Hound, Sandor Clegane, who saved Loras's life. But the Hound had already been imprisoned by Domeric.
So Domeric had no choice but to act. Otherwise, Loras would have died a truly unjust death!
"Thank you so much, Ser Domeric."
Renly hurried over from the side.
He really had been frightened just now. His good friend had almost been split in half. How could he not be afraid?
"These Lannister people are truly arrogant beyond measure!
"Anyone who did not know better would think the Iron Throne belonged to the lions of House Lannister, not the stag of House Baratheon," Renly complained.
"Heh."
Domeric merely smiled. That made it impossible for Renly to read his stance.
Seeing that the people around them had dispersed,
Renly pulled Domeric aside and showed him an exquisitely crafted golden rose pendant.
Inside was a lifelike Myrish-style portrait. The person in the painting was a lovely maiden with doe-like eyes and soft brown hair.
Margaery Tyrell?
Domeric guessed inwardly.
"This is Lady Margaery of House Tyrell of Highgarden. Forgive my abruptness, but does she resemble Lord Eddard's sister, Lyanna Stark?"
Renly asked urgently, as if he very much wanted to know the answer.
Domeric immediately remembered the original story, where Renly had taken Margaery's portrait to Lord Eddard and asked whether the girl in the painting looked like his sister, Lyanna Stark.
And this Lyanna was the former betrothed of the current king, Robert.
She was also the spark that had ignited the famous Robert's Rebellion.
Back then, Lyanna had already been betrothed to Robert, yet she had been abducted by the former crown prince, Rhaegar Targaryen. In truth, they had eloped.
When Robert, who was still Lord of Storm's End at the time, learned of this, he raised his banners in fury.
That was the direct cause of Robert's Rebellion.
Although Robert personally killed Prince Rhaegar on the banks of the Trident and overthrew the Targaryen dynasty, avenging the theft of his betrothed, Lady Lyanna had already died during the war.
That became a pain Robert could never forget.
Renly was clearly planning to present Margaery Tyrell to King Robert, so that she could replace Cersei Lannister as queen.
But now it was too late. If Lord Arryn had not died, if Stannis were still in King's Landing, and if the situation had not deteriorated to this degree, they could have tried to depose the queen.
But right now, even King Robert's life was held in the Lannisters' hands at any moment.
At any moment, with the slightest misstep, he could be "killed by a boar," "die from falling off a horse," "be murdered by an assassin," "die in a woman's belly"...
Talking about deposing the queen at a time like this was like lighting a candle in a privy—asking for death.
"Sorry, I do not know either. You would have to ask Lord Eddard. When Lady Lyanna was alive, I was only two or three years old," Domeric replied with a smile.
"Oh, right. I really lost my head in my hurry."
Renly slapped his forehead and was just about to take his leave and seek out Lord Eddard.
Domeric casually reminded him, "Lord Renly, you should be more careful during this period."
"What do you mean by that, Ser Domeric?" Renly's eyes filled with doubt.
"Did you not see it?
"Just now, Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, a Lannister bannerman, tried to kill your squire, the young nobleman of Highgarden, Ser Loras, in front of you, the king, and all the assembled nobles.
"Do you know what that means?
"It means they can kill you at any time!"
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🏰🩸 GAME OF THRONES: SECRETS BENEATH THE DREADFORT
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🚨 SOMETHING IS BURIED BENEATH THE DREADFORT...
And perhaps it was buried for a reason.
The North is a land of old blood, older grudges, and secrets hidden beneath snow and stone.
But few places inspire more fear than...
The Dreadfort.
30+ chapters ahead are already available.
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🩸 THE DREADFORT HIDES MORE THAN BONES
🏰 Dark northern secrets
⚔️ Political intrigue
🐺 Westerosi power struggles
🩸 Bloodlines & betrayal
❄️ The brutal North
👑 Ambition & survival
💀 Mysteries best left forgotten
The North remembers.
But the Dreadfort?
🩸 The Dreadfort hides.
🔥 30+ CHAPTERS AHEAD.
👉 Go beneath the Dreadfort before the public readers reach the door.
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❄️ Winter may be coming. The secrets are already here.