(Cregan’s POV)
I walked slowly through the corridors of Sunspear, making my way from Doran’s solar in the Tower of the Sun to the yard where my potential squires awaited. Though calling them potential squires wasn’t right. As much as I was still coming to terms with the offer to take one of Edric Dayne and Trystan Martell as a squire, I knew I’d have to take both, otherwise, I’d offend the house whose son I didn’t take.
Edric was one that I’d considered long ago about taking, as it meant I had a chance to complete the A Morning Blade. I’d long since accepted that I’d never become the Sword of the Morning, but I could finish that objective by training someone else who earned that title. Given Aldric had two sons, the odds that one of them would become Sword of the Morning was high. While Arren was the more likely choice, as a way to placate him when Edric became Lord Dayne, I wasn’t going to ignore the chance that Edric could earn that honour.
Still, I was surprised that Lord Aldric was allowing me to train his firstborn son. While he never had any issue with my status, nor did my grandmother, my goodaunt, Lady Joenne fucking despised me. She hated that I was a bastard and that I worshipped the Old Gods, with the latter the bigger issue as Joenne was so fervent in her belief, that she reminded me of the ‘arse-kissing’ fanatics that represented the worst of religion in my former life.
I hadn’t spoken to either of them since I’d left Starfall following my mother’s marriage to Oberyn, but it seemed my mother had remained in contact. That she and Oberyn had spoken in support of me taking Edric as my squire was an unexpected, but not unwelcome, display of trust and support. I’d known for a while that Edric was interested in becoming my squire, but because of his mother, and my status as a bastard, I’d dismissed it. Now it seemed the option was on the table, along with the unexpected chance to train a Prince of Dorne.
I’d not had much interaction with Trystane, save via Edric, and even as third in line to control of Dorne, training him was a great honour. Just as I had when it’d been suggested by Doran, many would question the choice of allowing me to train Trystane, yet Doran was right in his words. Trystane would have the potential for magic, and while Ari and Oberyn were far more skilled with that branch of magic than I – the last I’d seen, Ari barely held the advantage, though my father was far more creative in how he used magic than my lover – neither was entirely suitable to train him. Not without raising various questions about why Trystane was with them.
While I had suggested Oberyn to Doran when the offer to take Trystane was made, now I saw another, major flaw with it. Beyond the fact that it would divert my father’s focus from Beron. If Doran felt the best person to train his second son was his brother, then it questioned the skill and honour of the Lords of Dorne.
Now, having a bastard train Trystane would still be questioned, but given my closeness to the Martells – going so far as being Ari’s official paramour – and my recent successes in the Stepstones, Doran would likely spin it as a reward for my efforts to secure Dorne’s eastern waters. It also signifies that my allegiance was with Sunspear, making it harder for others to gain my support; be they Lords of Dorne or other major figures in the Seven Kingdoms.
I didn’t know when word of my taking Dustspear, or position in Ari’s bed, would reach the ears of people like Tywin Lannister, Varys, or Petyr Baelish, but I knew it would. The only advantage I had currently, beyond Doran’s patronage, was that every person on Dustspear now, or would sail with me when I returned, was highly unlikely to be a spy for anyone but the Martells. Thanks to my growing skill at sensing when someone was lying – along with the skills of Bronn, Ymir, and Kaa – I felt I should be able to limit the number of spies who entered my domain for at least the next half year. Beyond that, if my plans were still moving, then the focus on the Iron Throne, along with the Free Cities, would turn my way. I had ideas for how to manage those issues, but I wouldn’t need them for some time yet, which was a good thing as they were still barely out of the initial stages of conception.
Still, returning my thoughts to my future squires, while Trystane would be able – barring some disaster –to harness water magic, I wondered if Edric might have some potential as well. From what little I understood, magic flowed through blood – in both a genealogical sense and directly for Blood Magic, which I now had taken the first step toward learning. While I’d been inserted into this world by choice, the magic in me, at least the base potential for it, would’ve had to exist in some form in my parents for it to pass to me. Skinchanging came from Brandon Stark, along with Wolfsblood, but my affinity for Fire Magic didn’t. Provided whatever power that had inserted me here had considered the matter – and I’d be shocked if they hadn’t – then that potential must flow in the blood of House Dayne.
Given no female member of House Targaryen had ever married into House Dayne, then the magic either came from some other Valyrian bloodline – which was possible as according to records a handful of Lords of Starfall had married Ladies from Essos with Valyrian features – or it had existed in some form in the blood of House Dayne going back millennia. I’d have to be cautious about how and what I showed Edric, but I already knew that, once I was clear of Sunspear, and had them under my control, I would begin their training.
Before that, however, I needed to see what I was working with. Doran’s suggestion to speak with the boys, and the less-than-subtle hint that I should head to the yard, allowed me the opportunity to watch, evaluate, and test my squires before they knew they would be joining my service. Now sure of my thoughts and plans, I walked faster.
As I moved through the corridor of Sunspear, I saw Eirnela. The former slave gave me a shy nod and smile as I passed, and while I didn’t turn, I swore I felt her gaze remain on me as I walked away.
When I finally emerged at the yard, I saw several of the older boys sparring under the watchful eyes of Ser Orland Lightbright; Master-At-Arms of the palace guard. My attention was drawn to the grey direwolf that one boy wore, and I watched for a moment as Beron fought against a taller, and it was clear to see after only a few moments more skilled, fellow squire.
As the spar continued, the older boy pushed his advantage and quickly forced Beron to concede the spar. While both had fought well, the gap in skill, size, and power was enough that Beron had little chance of victory. Still, the older boy – who I recognised as Barrian Fowler when they lifted their helms – had taken longer than needed to win. Several moves before his winning slash, he’d had the chance to thrust his blade forward and catch Beron on the inside of the elbow. While the swords they were training with were blunted, a blow there would signal the end of the spar as in real combat, armour on the inside of the joint was often weak enough that the arm could be rendered useless with a well-place strike.
Ser Orland walked toward them, though he offered me a nod, which I returned before he began speaking to the young nobles. Ser Orland was brother to Lord Darick Lightbright, the Lord of Sun’s Keep, a small, but important holdfast on the route between Sunspear and Ghost Hill. Their sister, Lady Alyse, served on Doran’s Small Council as Lord Treasurer, while Jayne Lightbright – Lord Darick’s third child – was one of Ari’s younger Handmaidens, and had formed a bond with Alysanne and Wylla Manderly.
I moved closer, spotting younger boys practising in another section of the yard. “Ser Orland, I hoped to speak with the two under your watch,” I said as I neared him and the squires. Both turned to me, wide smiles coming to their faces.
Ser Orland nodded and turned toward the younger boys. “Edric! Trystane! Come here!” I winced at his volume, but given the sound of steel clashing against steel that echoed around the yard, it made sense he’d have to raise his tone to be heard.
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“I take it you were expecting me?” I asked with a chuckle as he turned back to me.
“Yes. Prince Doran sent word that you would be here this morning to speak with that pair.” He gestured over his shoulder toward where the two he’d called for would be. “Finally time to take a squire, eh?”
“Aye. Prince Doran was persuasive in making clear I needed one,” I replied to him before looking at the two squires already nearby. “Beron, Barrian, how are you today?”
“Very well Ser Cregan,” Barrian replied first, smiling widely. “I won again!” Beron’s shoulders slumped, making clear he wasn’t happy to have lost; perhaps more so, as I’d seen it happen.
“First, I have made it clear to each of you that there is no need to call me by title when not at a formal event,” I reminded. Beron was family while Barrian was one of the few boys close to my age – he was about half a year younger – and as such, one of the few male friends I had in the palace. “As for your spar, remember that you are older and further along in your training than Beron,” I replied, wanting to ensure Beron didn’t feel despondent. “And, if you were more aware, you should have won the spar earlier.”
“Ser Cregan is correct,” Ser Orland said, drawing the attention of the pair. “If either of you are to compete in Prince Oberyn’s nameday festivities next moon, then you must continue training. Come, let us leave Ser Cregan to his business.”
“If time allows, I will speak with you later,” I said to Beron since I’d yet to spend much time with my northern cousin since returning to Sunspear. Given the revelations of last night and now this morning, that was hardly a surprise, but I knew I had to make time to catch up with Beron and Alysanne.
“Okay.” Beron turned and moved off with Barrian behind Ser Orland while stepping toward the other side of the yard, seeing the two boys I was here to speak with emerge.
The pair were sweating, suggesting they’d been training for some time before I’d arrived, but as they approached they spoke quietly to each other. There was an excitement in their movement that had me thinking they suspected why I was here to speak with them, but I wasn’t going to just name them my squires. I wanted to toy with them a little, see if I could make them sweat before granting them the positions they wished for.
“It has been brought to my attention that after a year since my knighting, I have yet to take a page or squire,” the eyes of both boys lit up as I spoke, and Trystane gave Edric a gentle, but excited tap with his elbow. “From what I hear, both of you are of an age to become a squire. Edric,” I turned to my cousin by blood, “while you have served well as Prince Doran’s page, he is aware of his… inability to complete your training, and has asked if I might be willing to take over.” My cousin was trying to remain calm, but he was rocking from one foot to the other. “Apparently, you were aware of this for longer than I, and have spoken to your father. He is open to the idea.”
“Yes!” Edric snapped, pumping his fist, while Trystane’s expression slipped, fearing disappointment.
“However,” I continued, instantly dampening Edric’s excitement, “when we spoke of your situation, Prince Doran offered forth another for the position. That of Prince Trystane,” I said, looking at the young Martell, “your father has told me that you, for reasons I have yet to fathom, believe that being the squire to a bastard is one worthy of your station. I am curious to hear of your reasoning.”
“I…” Trystane stopped and licked his lips. As he collected my thoughts, he reminded me of myself when Doran had first mentioned the idea of taking to squires to me. “You may be a bastard, Ser Cregan, but your station is rising high in Sunspear. Many, including myself, feel you would be a suitable match for my sister when she becomes Princess of Dorne. Even if that is not to be the case, because of the fame of your deeds, you are a knight many admire and respect. Unlike Edric, I might not share a bond in blood with you, but I consider you family as much as he does.”
I chuckled, seeing hints of Doran in that answer. “Wise words for one so young, but expected of a prince,” I replied, giving him a small nod to further indicate my respect for the words. “And I am pleased you chose to not launch into an overly long speech that many a Lord seem to enjoy when in your father's court.” The pair chuckled, as intended. While they were trueborn, they disliked those speeches whenever an important visitor came to Sunspear, and a feast was called. Listening to those Lords, Ladies, and nobles from across the Narrow Sea, speak in grandiose terms about Doran, Sunspear, and Dorne was always a fucking bore. “However, a squire is not measured by their ability to twist words, but by other ways. Including your skill with a blade.”
I turned there and looked toward where Beron and Barrian had begun another spar. It was still early, yet already I was seeing mistakes in Beron’s stances. It was to be expected as he was young, but it left him open to Barrian’s attacks. As an idea for testing my future squires formed, I took a step toward the sparring boys.
Edric and Trystane, after a moment’s hesitation, fell into step behind me. That meant they understood the role they’d soon be taking involved them having to follow without being told, though the murmured whispers that reached my ears made clear they’d yet to learn to remain silent while following.
“Ser Orland,” I called out, drawing the Master-At-Arms attention. “Might I borrow these two?”
Ser Orland frowned, wondering what I was up to, but allowed it with a nod. “Beron! Barrian! Head to Ser Cregan!”
The pair moved back, ending their spar – which Barrian was again winning – and moved toward me, the visors on their helms lifted so I could once more see their faces.
“Beron, I take it you have grown tired of losing to Barrian during spars?” My cousin growled, his wolfsblood warming, before giving a single, terse nod. “Good, then I have a challenge for you that should if you are up to the challenge, grant you two victories. At least, if you are willing.”
“I am Ser Cregan.”
“Excellent,” I said, clapping my hands together and turning around. “Edric, Trystane, I wish you to, in turn, spar with Beron here. I do not expect you to win, but I want you to show me what you are capable of.” The pair nodded firmly, ready to prove themselves to me. “Beron, I want you to test them.”
“Yes, cousin.”
I stepped back, wanting to have room to observe my future squires as they took on my cousin. The two boys were busy speaking with each other, arguing over who would go first, as Beron pushed down his visor and moved to start the first spar.
“Who is to take them as squires?”
“Begin!” I called out once Edric was ready to face Beron. As steel clashed against steel, I responded to Barrian’s question without taking my eyes from the spar. “Prince Doran has made clear his thoughts on the matter, as has Lord Aldric,” I replied without directly answering Barrian. “I am merely testing the pair under the Prince’s instruction.”
“Ah. As you say, Ser Cregan.” Barrian fell silent as Beron thrust forward. Edric brought his shield up, but instead of deflecting the blow away, took it head on. Without the strength, size, or skill to tank the attack, Edric stumbled back.
“I notice your spars with Beron have been decidedly one-sided,” I commented as Beron pushed his advantage, though as he did I spotted flaws in his movement that a better-skilled fighter, be they knight or sellsword, would exploit.
“He has skill, but he’s too wild, too reckless, though even without that, I have other advantages over him.”
Grunting at Barrian’s assessment, and finding nothing wrong with it, I watched Beron swipe low. Edric danced back, choosing to withdraw rather than block or counter. Perhaps that was all he knew to do, but it surrendered the initiative. “Perhaps, once I have finished assessing the boys for Prince Doran, you might be interested in sparring with me?”
“I would be honoured, Ser Cregan.”
I scoffed as Beron continued to press his attacks, displaying the aggression Barrian had just spoken of. “While not the closest of people, I consider you a friend, Barrian. As I have said before, when not in court, or around some high-strung noble, there is no need to use my title.”
Barrian chuckled. “True, and I accept the challenge, my friend.”
“Good, but do not think I will be going easy on you.”
While I watched my cousins spar and waited for Trystane’s turn, I thought about Barrian. The boy had come to Sunspear five years ago with one of his sisters, Jelissa.
Barrian was about half a year younger than I was, and though not as comfortable with war, I felt he would be knighted within a year. I’d need to learn his plans once his time in Sunspear ended, but if he was interested, I’d happily accept him—and a handful of other third and fourth sons of Dorne—into my ranks. Those boys had little chance to inherit a keep unless through marriage to a young lady who ruled her own. They would be young and inexperienced, but having more knights in my forces would be greatly useful and would show that I remained fully loyal to Dorne.
To be clear, I had no intention of betraying Doran or conspiring with Ari—who would never consider it—to take over Sunspear. However, I didn’t want to remain a simple but valuable piece under Doran’s control. It would take time, effort, and a few small miracles, but if things went even reasonably well, I could step out as a player myself.
Until then, I needed the protection of Sunspear, and by training the future Lord Dayne and a Prince of Dorne to knighthood, I ensured that protection remained. It would also raise my profile beyond the red sands, bringing me, I hoped, into contact with others that I could use to slide from under Doran’s thumb. At least enough that I would stop being a simple piece and instead someone he had to consider a fellow player; hopefully one he considered an ally.
If by some insane twist of fate – which given my luck was possible – Viserys wasn’t crowned by Drogo but instead returned to Westeros with an army, then I’d also need protection. The Beggar King was a reckless, vain, jealous fool, and the moment he knew of my connection to Ari, he’d want my head. Better that, if that moment ever came, I had the land and forces with which to counter that threat. Or any of the dozens of other potential threats that existed to me and my family, right up to the one posed by what lurked beyond The Wall.
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