I grew up in a happy family. We had a stern father, a loving mother, two older sisters, and my twin brother, Alban. Our cousin Rolf was like another brother to us.
When we were little, our sisters filled our heads with songs and stories of knights and their valor. Mother and Father, though, never shared that fascination. Mother isn't from Westeros, so we understood her indifference. But Father once told us that the men of his house, House Tarly, were not much for knighthood. "They make high-disciplined soldiers and generals," he'd said, with a note of pride.
In King's Landing, we saw knights from all sorts of houses, but the King's Guard stood out the most. They were the greatest in the Seven Kingdoms. My favorite was Ser Arthur Dayne, while Alban loved to boast about Ser Barristan Selmy. We'd heard how the King's Guard defeated the Kingswood Brotherhood and how Ser Arthur personally slew the Smiling Knight. We also learned that the son of the Hand, Lord Tywin Lannister—Jaime Lannister—had become the youngest knight in history.
I remember once, Alban and I asked Father if he was a knight. He replied with a snort. "I'm no knight. I was a soldier from House Tarly. I fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, and there I met your mother." His face grew somber. "But before the war, my father, the Lord of Horn Hill, ordered me to join the Night's Watch. When I returned from the war with your mother, he banished me from his house for 'bringing home a whore.'" A deep sadness was in his eyes. "Before I left, he made me swear an oath that I would never take the name Tarly, and that my children would have no claim to his house."
We were heartbroken for him. We were a little disappointed in our grandfather, but our father was his natural son, so such treatment was, sadly, common. We never stopped dreaming of being knights, and our sisters never stopped dreaming of marrying one.
For a time, everything was well. But when Father died from a pain in his heart, everything turned worse.
Then the bastards came, asking for my sisters' hands in marriage. We refused, of course; Mother was still mourning, and these men were as old as our father had been. They didn't take no for an answer. They started harassing our customers, and some of our neighbors even joined their cause.
Mother tried to arrange other matches, but the suitors were either just as bad or too cowardly to stand up to the bullies. Our cousin Rolf helped as much as he could, but he had his own work.
The worst day came when those Gold Cloaks broke into our house and dragged us into the street, accusing us of not paying our taxes. But we had paid the other group that came just days before! They accused us of treason and threatened to bring us before the King if we didn't comply with their "wishes." I was so angry, watching one of them put his hands on my sister. I tried to attack him with a knife, but someone grabbed me from behind. I was helpless, struggling in his grip, and Alban was in the same state.
Then, a miracle happened.
A man came from behind them and started laying into the Gold Cloaks. A single punch from his gauntleted hand was enough to put any of them down. We were shocked by our sudden savior. When Rolf explained things to Mother, all we could do was stare at the knight.
The way he said, "It is a knight's duty to protect the innocent," didn't sound quite like the songs. It was harder, more real. His demeanor, his armor, his very presence—we could do nothing but gawk. Well, I mean, observe.
Before we could even thank him, Mother ordered us to clean up the mess. Then more Gold Cloaks arrived with reinforcements. We just watched, terrified, as he managed their captain with nothing but a piece of paper. And we heard him threaten them with death if they ever tried it again.
Later, he asked for a bath. Alban and I hurried to help, realizing he had no squire. Surely, he would call for us to help him remove his armor! We rushed inside, but Mother stopped us, saying it was already done. We were so angry, shouting at her, thinking the knight was just another bad man in shiny armor. But after Mother explained it was our sisters who had insisted, we understood. We apologized and went to him, offering to clean his armor. He just smiled and gave us permission.
We asked him a thousand questions about his adventures and learned of wonders in Essos. He had a fascinating story for everything. He became like a member of the family, and to us, he was the reliable older brother we never had. By the gods, how could one man have mastered so many things? He changed our lives in ways we couldn't have imagined, and for the first time, my dream of becoming a knight felt truly possible.
I won't lie, my sisters' obvious affection for him was sometimes annoying. When he gifted us our equipment, we thought he would officially take us as his squires. When he said it was just a name-day gift, our dreams shattered like ice. But he was only jesting! With Mother's permission, we became his official squires.
He transformed our home into what he called a "coin-hoarding machine," and we grew wealthy in less than two months. I'll admit, I once wondered if he was doing it all to win my sisters' favor. But he never acted on it. He was always respectful, almost distant with them in a way that confused me but also made me respect him more. He was a true knight, not just a man in armor.
So when he announced he would travel to the Reach and take us with him, Alban and I were overjoyed. We had never been outside the Crownlands!
The same couldn't be said for my sisters. They couldn't come with us, and the fact that Ser Julius was leaving shattered them. They cried in their beds, and we tried to comfort them, promising we'd bring him back.
"But he will find another woman there!" Jane cried. "He will stay with her and never return!"
We left them to Mother's counsel and began our own preparations for the journey. I was truly excited. If we found some outlaws on the road, we could show them the training we'd had with Ser Julius. And from the look in Alban's eyes, he was thinking the exact same thing.