Lancel Lannister. Squire to the King, cousin to Queen Cersei and Kingsguard Jaime Lannister, nephew of Lord Tywin, son of Ser Kevan Lannister.
He was a son, a nephew, a brother, a cousin—but never himself. This was Joss Hill's assessment of Lancel.
It was known throughout the Westerlands that Lancel's father, Ser Kevan, lived happily in the shadow of his brother, Tywin.
Lancel seemed the same.
With his blond hair and similar features, he clumsily imitated his cousin Jaime's mannerisms, trying to appear upright and resolute. Yet in private, he couldn't resist the allure of wine and women.
Though constrained by status and age from visiting brothels openly, Joss could see the hunger in his eyes. He wanted to go. Badly.
Who could blame him?
As Robert Baratheon's squire, seeing his liege lord spend more time in brothels than in Small Council meetings... when the King was "happy" with women, Lancel had to stand guard outside. It was hard for anyone to stay upright in that environment.
So, in matters of "faith"—which usually didn't matter much—he acted radical to mask the dark thoughts buried in his heart.
What a waste of good lineage, Joss often sighed. If I were Lancel, I could do so much better.
As for now, Lancel could be the knife to cut open the truth and help Joss get what he wanted.
So, with a bit of instigation and fanning the flames, the fire burned its way to this small courtyard in the south of town.
Now, Joss just needed an excuse to drag the big spider into the forest to hide it, then retrieve it once the coast was clear.
However...
"Joss, this thing is huge!"
The group laughed and pointed at the spider. "Yeah! Your cock isn't even as thick as one of its hairs!"
Another confused voice chimed in. "I don't see any hair on this spider."
"That's because it's microscopic!"
"Hahahaha!"
The courtyard filled with joyous air.
Hearing his companions' teasing, Joss felt resentful but didn't show it.
When I get the money, you'll all circle me like dogs. And I won't even throw you a bone.
He patted the giant spider's head as if casually, marveling at the potential profit. "Lancel, this is the blasphemous monster. Let's move it."
Lancel kicked a spider leg. "I don't want to touch this disgusting thing. Burn it here."
Joss was startled. Little lord, you have guts. Aren't you afraid of burning down the whole Winter Town? Even if Ser Kevan can protect you, he can't protect me.
Just as he was about to object, a large hand gripped his shoulder. "So, you're the ones who beat my friend?"
Joss looked back. It was the big guy who had hidden aside when they entered. Heh, a coward.
He grabbed the hand, trying to pry it off. "Big guy, if you know what's good for you..."
Aldric interrupted impatiently, "Do you bastards only know that one line?"
Following the sentence came a massive fist.
After a messy, unaesthetic brawl, all eight "visitors," including Joss, were lying on the ground, groaning and clutching their bodies.
Aldric stretched his limbs and sneered. "I don't know where you crawled out from, but a Septon of the Seven lives in that house."
He pointed to Brother John, who was clutching the doorframe, afraid to come out. "Whether a bard's story is blasphemy isn't for you to judge. As for this monster, even if I just found it, what business is it of yours?"
"And who threw the first punch at my friend?!"
None of the eight on the ground spoke. Their eyes held anger, hatred, and a trace of fear.
But Aldric didn't care. "My friend has a broken finger. His middle finger, for holding a sword. If you don't hand over the culprit, I'll break a finger from each of you."
The blond boy shouted angrily, "You dare?! I am... I am the King's squire!"
Aldric sneered. "King's squire? Eight of you got beaten by one of me. Does the King protect you, or do you protect the King? Did the King order you to beat civilians, trespass, and rob property? Don't test my patience."
The blond boy hesitated. No King wanted a squire who couldn't hold a sword. He didn't want to bet on Aldric's patience or Robert's affection. So he looked at Joss, who had struck first in the tavern. The others looked at Joss too.
Cowards. Aldric despised them silently. He walked to Joss, grabbed his middle finger, and squeezed the second joint.
Crack.
Joss clutched his hand and rolled on the ground screaming. "AAAAAHHH!"
Joss's scream terrified everyone, including Aldric himself. So he didn't make it harder for them. He opened the gate.
"Get out. Don't let me see you again."
After the group supported each other away, Brother John came out in his fur coat, worried. "Aldric, who were those guys?"
Aldric shook his head. "I don't know. Probably the King's men."
John shook his head too. "Aldric, you were impulsive. The King's men aren't to be trifled with."
Hearing the blond boy claim to be the King's squire, Aldric felt a twinge of regret.
But the beating was done. What use was regret?
And he couldn't just watch them beat his friend and walk away with his loot, could he?
Aldric helped Rennel up and handed him to John. "Rennel has a finger fracture. Take him somewhere to hide. I don't know if those kids will come back for trouble. It's not safe here."
"What about you?" John asked. "Aren't you coming?"
"No. I'm staying. I want to see how far these bastards dare to go."
John sighed and helped Rennel away.
Watching his roommates leave, Aldric made up his mind. "Kevin."
"Teacher?"
"Armor up."
"Yes, Teacher!"
Receiving the order, Kevin quickly retrieved Aldric's "Lightbringer" set, helped his teacher don it, and put on his own armor.
Fully armed, the master and apprentice sat on stools in the courtyard, waiting silently in the cold wind all night.
All night, there were no whistles of arrow volleys, no thuds of battering rams.
The fierce street fighting, the screams and severed limbs Aldric imagined—none of it happened.
Until dawn broke and footsteps of early workers echoed in the alley, Aldric finally stood up, took off his cold helmet, and patted his student. "Disarm. Go rest."
Kevin was groggy. He yawned. "Not waiting?"
"They probably aren't coming." Aldric rubbed his red eyes. "If they are truly the King's guards, they should be guarding the King right now—probably no time for us."
So they went back to the room, stripped off the armor, and fell asleep.
Unknown hours later, Aldric heard messy footsteps outside. He rolled out of bed, shook Kevin awake, grabbed his weapon, hid behind the door, and watched the direction of the sound.
A few breaths later, Haywar's voice came from outside. "Aldric, Captain Aldric, are you home?"
An acquaintance.
Aldric put down his sword, went to the yard, pretended to have just woken up, scratched his neck, and opened the gate.
"Haywar, why are you here? Don't you need to stay by the Lord?"
"The Lord ordered me to find you." Haywar pointed to the large cart behind him. "The King wants to see your trophy. Bring it and come with us."
Aldric frowned, stalling. "Huh? This thing is heavy."
"Do you need to worry about that?" Haywar pointed to the guards behind him. "They'll move it for you. You don't have to lift a finger."
Aldric shrugged, stepped aside, and went back to change.
"Teacher, what's happening?"
Under Aldric's instruction, Kevin had hidden inside and hadn't heard the exchange.
"Nothing. The King wants to see the big spider. Haywar is here to take it."
Kevin said nervously, "Teacher, you beat up the King's squires yesterday... is this a trap?"
Aldric pulled on clean clothes. "Unlikely. I know Haywar; he wasn't lying. Want to come?"
"Of course! You can't leave me behind again!"
Aldric laughed. "What are you thinking? It's not that dramatic. Just meeting the King."
He didn't know if fighting the King's squires counted as mutual combat in this world, or if he'd get detained for ten days and fined a thousand bucks—or worse.
Riding "Lightning" (renamed from "Old Stuff"), following the cart, Aldric tried to get information out of Haywar.
But Haywar was slippery as always, dodging every question.
Helpless, Aldric chatted about the weather.
Unknowingly, Winterfell's high walls came into view.
The South Gate was closest to Aldric's courtyard. The guards saw Haywar leading the team and opened the gate.
This was Aldric's first time inside Winterfell.
Passing through two thick walls, the first thing he saw was a spacious training yard with scattered warriors practicing.
To the left was a smithy where an old man with a white beard hammered away with two apprentices. The rhythmic clanging felt intimate to Aldric.
Further on, a long stable hugged the wall, filled with strong warhorses whinnying low.
To the right was a high wall. Through the open archway, he could vaguely see a grand hall where people seemed to be feasting.
Before Aldric could see clearly, the team stopped in the center of the yard.
Haywar reminded him, "Aldric, give the horses to the grooms. They'll be well cared for."
"Oh, okay."
Recovering from his curiosity, Aldric dismounted, handed "Lightning" and Kevin's "Fast Fish" to a withered old man, and helped the guards unload the spider.
As the spider hit the ground, warriors in the yard gathered in small groups, whispering around the carcass.
Aldric hated this atmosphere but had nowhere to go, so he stood there, face stiff, enduring the scrutiny.
Haywar told Aldric to wait and trotted behind the high wall to the right to report.
Soon, the tall, burly King Robert led a dozen followers out of the hall like a storm.
Closest to him were a middle-aged noble and several teenagers.
"Your Grace!"
As the King approached, nearby warriors knelt on one knee.
Aldric followed suit, bending his right knee briefly before standing straight and bowing his head.
The King didn't care about his etiquette. He seemed not to notice Aldric at all, walking straight to the spider. Hands on hips, he marveled, "Ned, you really have everything in the North. Is this the White Walker's mount, the legendary Ice Spider?"
The middle-aged noble beside him, Lord Eddard Stark, shook his head. "White Walkers are just legends, Your Grace. I incline to believe this is some undiscovered beast."
"This is no ordinary beast."
The King took off his glove to pat the shell, but Ned stopped him.
"Your Grace, if you don't want to waste the good wine you drank at noon, don't touch it. Trust me, it really stinks."
King Robert hesitated, then wisely withdrew his hand. He drew the sword at his waist and hacked heavily at the spider's back shell. Thud. A dull sound.
"This black shell is tough. Pity it's too thick for armor."
The King checked his edge, sheathed the sword, and turned to Aldric. "Young man, you caught this spider?"
Aldric quickly replied, "Yes, Your Grace. I am the Captain of the Silver Hand mercenary company. My comrades and I killed this monster while on a mission in Rabbit's Paw Village near the Wolfswood."
"Tell me, how did you kill it? I'm curious."
"As you command, Your Grace."
So Aldric recounted the story again, same version as he told Rennel, still omitting the Holy Light healing.
"Hmm, that's it?"
King Robert asked, "No comrades dying and the Seven sending down grace to revive them?"
Who leaked my Light healing story?
Aldric quickly denied it. "Your Grace jests. If I had that skill, why be a mercenary? I'd go be a Bishop at the Great Sept of Baelor. The Seven's mercy is everywhere; how would they notice a small potato like me?"
King Robert laughed loudly. "Ned, I told you. Bard's stories are always exaggerated. They see a puddle of piss and call it a flood on the White Knife."
He asked Aldric again, "How about selling this beast to me?"
Lord Eddard, standing by, was stunned. He forgot honorifics. "Robert, why buy it?"
The King said matter-of-factly, "Remember the basement under the Red Keep? It has many dragon skulls collected by the Targaryens. Since I took the throne, I haven't put any worthy trophies in there. I think this thing is nice."
Ned didn't comment. The King didn't wait for his opinion and asked Aldric again, "Well? Name a price. But don't take me for a fool!"
Aldric's brain spun fast. He replied quickly, "Your Grace, I am willing to offer it to you as a gift."
"Oh?" The King asked with interest, "Then what do you want in return?"
Before Aldric could speak, a handsome blond man standing near a beautiful woman stepped forward. He bowed to the King.
"Your Grace, I implore you to punish him for the crime of deceiving the King."