Chapter 6: A Tournament

104 AC

Maidenpool

All Medieval tournaments are like Renaissance Fairs while all Renaissance Fairs may or may not be like Medieval Tournaments, I think as I walk through the Tourney grounds. The whole tournament and the others I have attended before so far have given me a Renaissance Fair vibe which isn't so bad if you think about it.

My primary goal in this tournament was to take care of Crispin the Cunt before he enters service with the Royal Family, now the question is how?

Secondary goal: Do not let Daemon win, I can't lose a thousand gold dragons to him.

Though I wonder if I should let Cole be around until he defeats Daemon in the melee and the jousts and then I beat him following that, after all, a thousand gold dragons is a lot of money and my monthly allowance in the Red Keep as a Prince was half that.

After spending a week in Maidenpool, familiarising myself with my betrothed and walking the streets of the town with Dacey to get to know her better and also to get an idea of what the hell I should be doing in Fairmarket.

I learned a lot about Dacey during that time, while she was easy on the eyes and was everything that a highborn girl was meant to be, she had a backbone made of steel and wasn't some pretty little frivolous trophy wife to sit on my arm, thankfully that is exactly what I wanted from her.

She could ride and hawk as well as I could and was reasonably good with a longbow. If she and her future niece Alysanne Blackwood is anything to go by then I believe that all Blackwood girls are taught to use a longbow.

While she tried to hide it, her excitement during our conversations about Sheepstealer and dragons, in general, was easy to see and why wouldn't she be excited?

Being married to a Dragon Rider isn't something that comes to any girl much less one from the Riverlands. According to Aemma, the gossip skyrocketed after our betrothal was announced, and the eyes that turn towards us in envy when we are together increased with every breath we take.

To top it all off she was witty which made her a hit with both Viserys and Aemma, though Daemon was more reserved in his opinions mostly because a few of the jokes were at his expense, I think he kept his peace for my sake.

Daemon strutted up to me as I was walking toward my tent to ready myself for the melee which was due to begin in a couple of hours.

"I hope you have the money with you Aegon because I am going to make you and the remaining fifty other fools in this melee eat the dirt in a few hours." He said with a smug grin.

I could understand why he was so overconfident, not that I liked it. Daemon was a natural prodigy with the sword growing up while I had to spend hours cracking my knuckles learning to properly wield a sword. The longbow and the mace were much easier in that regard.

After Daemon was given Dark Sister, it was all over, Daemon has not lost a single spar or duel since getting that sword. Small wonder that he loves that sword more than anything else minus Caraxes.

"It's alright if you don't have the money right now, you can pay me tomorrow after you get the money," Daemon said with a smile.

"Tomorrow?" I asked bemused, "What's with tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow morning is the Archery Contest and the Prize Money for that is a thousand gold dragons, so once you win that you can pay me." He replies, "Unless you intend on gifting your betrothed something expensive which will have to wait."

"I have already bought her an emerald and sapphire necklace," I answered him which caused him to roll his eyes, I don't think that Daemon has ever gifted Rhea anything.

"Emerald and Sapphire aren't that a bit too much." He asked with a raised eyebrow,

"No, it's not." I disagreed, "Just because you haven't bought your wife a thing other than your disdain doesn't mean that I should do the same."

Daemon rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever, do as you will."

Four thousand gold dragons for the winner of the Melee and five thousand gold dragons for the winner of the jousts plus ransoms, while it wasn't much compared to what the prizes were during the Hand's Tournament in the Books and the show which in itself was highly expensive for its time, the prize money for this tournament was expensive enough by today's monetary standards.

When we finally reach my tent, Daemon pats me on the back, wishes me luck, and heads off to his tent.

My squires who happen to be Lord Mooton's son Walys Mooton and Lord Darry's son Roland Darry come out. They are both good lads, not prone to do anything stupid like Lancel Lannister, I have not seen the need to discipline them or anything. This also meant that I can't use the breastplate stretcher joke on them.

"My Prince, the grooms have readied the horse." Roland speaks up while Walys follows it up by saying, "We have cleaned and polished your armor and weapons, my Prince."

I nod approvingly, "Good work boys."

One of the grooms comes with my horse, a chestnut destrier that I named Henry because why the hell not? Henry was covered head to hoof in black barding as befits a horse that carries a Targaryen Prince upon it.

I entered my tent to see that my armor was cleaned and polished, it was a well-made suit of night-black plate armor, with silver ringmail underneath the armor and over the black gambeson, and my helmet was an armet crested with the three-headed dragons. The draconic decoration on my cuirass was the first three-headed dragons on my breastplate enameled in crimson. My sword belt and cloak were both blood red and were placed on the table along with my flanged mace. Below the table, was my shield, a heater shield with my sigil painted on it.

I turned to the boys and said "Alright then, let's get to it, I have a melee to win." Or lose.

The Melee

Fifty horsemen in an area of around three acres descend into a whirling chaos of men, metal, and horses which lasts for nearly two hours.

Swords slash and thrust, clubs and maces swing and bash, shields bash and grind and soon begin to splinter. Screams of horses and wounded men fill the air but the cheering and the applause from the crowd watching the carnage overpower it, this is not an actual battle but a mock battle but men die in melees either due to accidents or due to a targeted strike which is cloaked as an accident.

And the latter is exactly what I am going for.

I make my way through the melee, many try their luck against me, a Velaryon, a Beesbury, a Lannister, a Redfort, and others who I don't bother to recall, in the end, my mace finds its way to bash their fancy helms, dent their breastplates, and break their shields.

Though I usually go for the easier and more painful targets, the gauntleted fist, the couter on the elbow, the poleyns on the knee, a solid strike there and they cry in such deep pain that they drop their weapons, and yield immediately afterward.

My whole life I have trained and sparred with the Seven of the Kingsguard, my father, and my brothers, and other than Viserys I haven't defeated anyone else on that list despite coming close at times, though I may not be better than the best, I was certainly better than the rest and a class above the others.

And then I find him as the field slowly starts to thin out to a handful of combatants, through my eye slits the shield of ten black pellets on a scarlet field finally enters my vision, I take a deep breath and kick in my spurs as I charge towards him and upon seeing me he rises to the challenge.

Criston Cole is better than Daemon and Daemon is better than me ergo Criston Cole should be better than me, so how do I defeat him, simple. I kill his fucking horse.

My mace comes crashing down on his horse's unprotected head by coming from the side bypassing whatever little barding on the horse's forehead and that turns out to be his downfall, figuratively and literally as almost instantly the horse gives out its death cry as its skull is cracked open and the brains spill out and the falling horse takes its too-stunned-to-react rider with him alongside his morningstar.

I can hear a distinct sound of bone breaking and his cry of pain following immediately after that but I am not done with him, I move Henry around Criston, and before the helpers arrive to take him away I pull Henry's reins and make him rear up into a wheelie and then I bring him down straight on the shocked and immobile Criston Cole.

Both of Henry's legs land on his chest with a thud and a splat follows afterward his antiquated armor is useless and he is dead before the helpers arrive and they take away what's left of his body on a stretcher.

Goodbye, Kingmaker.

I look around to see that while the crowd of Smallfolk and Nobles enjoyed the blood, the Royal Box did not, Viserys is horrified to see me pull off the same dirty tricks that Daemon uses and go beyond that while a shocked Aemma has to cover Rhaenyra's eyes.

I look around to see that now there are only two people left in the entire field, me and Daemon. This is going to be fun.

The Next Day Morning ( After the Archery Contest )

"Here, five hundred gold dragons," I said as I dropped half of my winnings on his table.

"That's only half," Daemon said as he prepared himself for the jousts that were to occur later today. Daemon did not take any squires for himself despite multiple offers for he preferred to ready himself alone.

"You will get the other half once you win jousts for which I will light a candle in the Castle Sept that you do not." I dryly responded.

Daemon responded by chuckling, "I doubt the Gods can do anything about that." Don't count your chickens before they hatch.

He then asked, "Why aren't you participating in the joust? Don't you want to crown your betrothed as the Queen of Love and Beauty?"

"I am too tired from yesterday," I replied as I sat down at his table and took a bite of his breakfast. "Dacey can live just fine without that title."

"Yet, you just participated and won the Archery Contest not an hour ago," Daemon points out.

"The Credit for that goes to Big Ben here," I answered holding up my Dragonbone bow. "I defeated the last two at a hundred and ten paces."

And fortunately for me nobody in the contest wanted to seriously challenge a Prince of the Blood and they didn't have any special bows, so that helped.

Dragonbone bow has a higher range than the Goldenheart bows of the Summer Isles, weirwood longbows, and of regular yew longbows. My father gave me Big Ben as a gift for my nameday which he received from a Pentoshi Magister around the same year.

"So, I am guessing that you will be wearing Rhaenyra's favor today for the jousts," I asked as I poured wine for the two of us.

He nodded with a smirk as he took a cup, "Of course, Valonquar, What did you expect?" I expected that you wouldn't be a perverted creep who is interested in his seven-year-old niece.

After Daemon defeated me in the melee, he crowned Rhaenyra with the victor's laurels while I was face-first in the mud. Soft mud.

"I have been meaning to ask you, any particular reason why you killed that knight yesterday." Daemon then asked me as he refilled his cup.

"You killed a bunch of knights yesterday and you are asking me about my kill," I replied keeping a poker face.

"I killed only two and those were accidental because Dark Sister cut too deep," He informed me.

"Using Dark Sister in a melee and then claiming the deaths to be accidental is rather on the nose," I deadpanned,

"Yet nothing like yours, if you had left it at killing the horse, it would have been passed off as a tourney accident but you killed the man in broad daylight by having your horse stamp on him after rearing him up and that was straight-up murder in everyone's eye," Daemon answered with his face giving nothing away.

"You are lucky that it was some nobody from the Stormlands," He continues.

Yes, I was lucky in that regard if it had been some other very important noble then I would have been in trouble, in this case however money was given as compensation and hushed over, so this is what rich kids feel like.

"Good luck in the jousts, Daemon hope you lose," I said to him as I got up to which he laughed.

Later that Night, The Feast

"Look on the bright side you made it to the finals before getting your ass kicked by Lord Lymond," I said with a smirk to a sulking Daemon as the feast raged around us.

"Shut up." An irritated Daemon groused, "And what is the bright thing about that?"

"I saved five hundred gold dragons," I said with a happy smile to which Daemon responded by throwing wine in my face.