Ben
The smell of shit was everywhere, at every time. Ben woke up to the smell of shit, he ate breakfast stained with the smell of shit, he laid in bed for days and weeks, and the smell of shit was there for every moment, in the best of moments it was only the smell of shit, sometimes it was worse.
Lord Connington had been banished by the King; Lucius told him a day after they arrived at King’s Landing. That had been a month ago. A new army was being gathered outside the city on the camp of what remained of Connington’s host.
They had stayed in the camp for a week until Lucius ran into Ferret while wandering in the city. The little thief had been happy to see them, he was much more impressive than when Ben first met him. At first Ben hadn’t recognized him, he wore mail armour and was clad in a golden woollen cloak, on his belt a dirk and a cudgel, and on his hand a spear. The thief had greeted him warmly and told them he had moved back to King’s Landing after the tourney, old Tommard had joined him, they were neighbours of sorts, and they had pooled ten gold dragons together and bought a spacious stone house.
Ferret offered them to stay there until Ben recovered, for a price. Lucius liked the idea of a more comfortable place to stay and agreed. Ferret had asked for ten silver stags, but Lucius gave him a golden dragon. The thief was speechless, and Ben noticed he almost rejected the excessive overpayment, but Lucius had only laughed, he said there was no need for paying among friends and the golden dragon was a gift, to ease the burden, or lack of it, of Ferret’s purse. Ben kept six of his dragons well hidden, it was a great amount of money, and he didn’t know how to expend it, but he wouldn’t give it away either, the other he had exchanged for silver stags in Dragonstone and half of it was still in his purse. Lucius seemed to be more openhanded with his money, at least with friends, he haggled like an old fishmonger otherwise.
The two-storey house was big, made of sturdy stone, it was some streets away from Cobbler’s Square. The first floor had no dividing walls, a big table was at the centre of the hall, and behind it a hearth. Next to the hearth, a small kitchen, some hooks with hanging iron pots, and pans, and some wooden ladles rested among other cooking tools, shelves were placed next to the kitchen most empty but some had flour and vegetables. The second floor had four bedrooms, but one of them was empty. Finally, the roof was mostly empty, but there were some wooden stools there, Tommard and Ferret had gotten used to going there on the late afternoons before dinner and shared a drink or two, or three or four.
Lucius didn’t want Ben to go up there until a few days ago. There were a lot of things Lucius didn’t want Ben doing, on their time in Ferret’s house he had taken to carrying a wooden stick around and lightly hitting Ben on the head with it whenever he thought Ben wasn’t worrying about his injuries enough. He worried too much, but Ben understood, he had been lucky his broken rib didn’t damage his insides, the maesters had said. Now it had been a month already and he could walk without pain, but Lucius and his stick kept him from doing much besides that.
He noticed it again, the smell of shit. He was so distracted he hadn’t noticed it for a moment. With a sigh, he got up from his bed. The room Ferret had given them was bare beyond the big wooden bed with a comfy straw mattress. The bed was big enough for five people, for his future kids, Ferret had said, he certainly was living well after the tournament. Ben’s family slept on a single bed, they had made a small mattress for Lucius when he had arrived, but he slept on the floor. Their cottage was made of wood too, not stone.
He stood up, on one of the corners of the rooms there was a cluster of stuff, a mace and some armour, clothes and a belt bag. His stuff. It wasn’t much, but it was his. He wouldn’t need most of it soon enough, he thought sadly. He turned his eyes back to the bed, at the foot of it in the middle there was a white tunic. Lucius had taken him to the Street of Looms the day before, they had bought two plain white tunics, and they would need them for tonight. Ben couldn’t quite believe it yet.
Prince Rhaegar had returned to the capital two weeks ago, he was too busy raising an army to bother with the likes of Ben, but two days ago a man had come knocking at Ferret’s door. He came all the way from the Red Keep. The prince had learned of Ben's and Lucius' role in the Battle of the Bells and had decided to knight them. Knight him! A knight all right and proper, that was all Ben had dreamed to be since he could dream. The prince was so touched by Ben’s bravery during the battle and of his rescue of Ser Myles that he had decided they would do their vigil on the Sept of Baelor, and they would be knighted on the King’s Square, directly in front of the Red Keep. The High Septon himself would be the one to anoint them! The messenger had also informed them that in thanks for saving his friend’s life, he would personally pay for their own plate and warhorses. Ben wasn’t so excited about the warhorse, he didn’t much like the beasts, but everything else. It was a dream come true.
He left the tunic where it was, he wouldn’t need it until later. He went down the stairs and found Lucius breaking his fast who greeted him with a silent nod, next to him was Tommard. The old man was tending to a young boy’s broken finger by applying some ointment on it, next to the crying boy sat his mother suspiciously watching everything old Tommard did. Ben sat next to Lucius where food was waiting, his raven-haired friend had taken care of feeding him since he was injured and had refused to stop doing so until he was completely healed. Ben complained, but it was a nice gesture.
He drank some water ignoring Tommard’s noisy client. He began eating the oat porridge with milk and honey Lucius had made for him, stopping only to drink some water or take a bite from some of the bread and cheese there was on the table. The breakfasts here were way better than the ones back on the farm, although they were worse than the ones they were given while in Dragonstone.
He ate in silence, and when he finished, he cleaned the table in silence. As he sat down again Tommard ruffled the boy’s hair and turned to his mother. “That’d be five groats,” Tommard grunted. The mother took some coins from her purse and slipped them into his hand. “Thank you, master healer.” The woman bowed slightly before taking her son by his arm and left.
“You ought to find another place to treat your patients Tommard, it’s no good to break your fast while some old man stitches wounds next to you spilling blood all over the table where you will have to eat supper later,” Lucius observed. “Bah!” Tommard dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Quit it with your whining. Ferret is away most of the day, working or drinking or whoring, once you are gone I can go back to treating my clients in peace.” Tommard said with a harsh tone. Lucius shrugged and offered him some bread and cheese. Tommard cleaned his ointment-smeared hands on his pants before taking the bread and cheese and eating it angrily.
“You call it whining, but it’s simply disgust. I don’t think Ferret’s future wife will take kindly to all the filth you smudge all over the table where people are bound to eat.” Lucius pointed at Tommard with a piece of cheese. “Ha!” Tommard spat bread all over the table. “Any girl that scoundrels marry is bound to be nastier than me concerning filth. He is a rogue from Flea Bottom, no proper woman will wed a knave like him. He’ll marry a Flea Bottom wench or a whore. Not sure which would be better.” Tommard said as he swept his arm across the table throwing the crumbs of bread and the spat food to the ground.
“You are too harsh.” Lucius laughed at old Tommard’s tirade as if it had been a joke, Ben doubted it was, but everyone pretended the old man was joking whenever he insultingly ranted about anyone. Tommard huffed but said no more.
Lucius chattered with Tommard some more about happenings and weather, nothing that was of much interest to Ben. He was imagining Prince Rhaegar with a sword on his shoulder anointing him a knight, his mind wandered and eventually, he found himself daydreaming about being a knight and riding through the Seven Kingdoms, rescuing maidens and slaying beasts.
A pat on the back brought him back to the real world. “What?” Ben asked startled. “We are going to the Street of Flour. We ought to celebrate, let us enjoy the day before our vigil tonight.” Lucius declared as he threw a red woollen tunic on the table. “Are you coming Tommard?” Ben asked the old man while he put on a pair of leather boots and the tunic.
“Are you deaf? Some knight you’ll be, Ser Ben the Dumb his head is always numb.” Tommard huffed. “I’ll stay here, I’ve got to earn my coin.” The old man stared at him like he was a dullard. “Ass.” Ben simply replied, he wasn’t gifted with words and his mother had beaten most foul words from his mouth when he was much younger. It was warranted in this case though.
As Lucius had said they enjoyed the day. They walked through the city watching mummeries and puppeteers, listening to singers and bards playing the lute. The city was vivid, the streets were wide at times, but they turned very narrow before one noticed, people came and went about their business they wore all kinds of colours and fabrics, some wore rags and others the finest of linens. When they arrived at the Street of Flour the smell of shit had faded for the first time since Ben set foot in the city, in its place the smells of a thousand kinds of pies, pastries and rolls danced around him, one moment he smelled an apple pie and the other a delicate pastry with a subtle hint of cream. There were dozens of shops along the street, Ben ate pastries and pieces of pie tasting something from every shop, he could keep this up for seven shops before he was so full, he couldn’t eat another bite.
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After that they went on the Street of Steel, they browsed a few shops asking about how much it would cost to have plate armour made for both of them. Lucius disliked the shops in the lower part of the street, somewhere in the middle between the low end and the top Lucius stopped at a shop that caught his eye. The owner of the shop was a stout short man with dirty blond hair and arms as big as Ben’s legs, Lucius inquired a bit about prices before carrying on.
They then went to Fishmonger’s Square and bought some cod to bring back to Ferret’s house. They arrived there in the afternoon; Ferret had already returned from his watch by then. Lucius began cooking the fish along with some vegetables on the hearth. Ferret served a cheap wine on four wooden mugs. It was a bit early to eat compared to what they were used to, but they had to be on the Sept of Baelor by evening.
They dined plenty and drank little, Lucius had suggested not to drink more than one mug of wine while waving his wooden stick around menacingly. Tommard was his usual surly self while Ferret and Lucius jested and bantered, Ben was mostly silent. He was in equal measure excited and afraid about the ceremony he would take part in just a few hours.
“Will I have to call both of you Sers tomorrow? I’ll not bow to that cocky bastard even if they crown him King.” Ferret said smiling while pointing an accusing finger to Lucius who laughed. “You should practice! Try it out, Ser Lucius, it tastes sweet to say it, but I’m sure it’ll be sweeter still from your thieving lips.” Lucius said with a big mocking smile on his face. “Don’t say such things under my roof! I’m no thief, don’t you see my cloak? I’m a member of the City Watch.” Ferret said as if offended, he wasn’t, Ben knew, but one wouldn’t be able to tell Ferret’s queer humour if they didn’t spend some time with him. Lucius huffed. “And promoted thrice in less than a year, a corrupt bunch of law-keeping outlaws is what you are. If you didn’t buy those promotions then the moon is made of cheese and I have a pet dragon.” He said only half in jest. “Slander!” Ferret shouted, but he couldn’t keep a knowing smile from his face.
“That is a big word for you, you are coming far.” Lucius taunted him. Ferret's face reddened a bit. “Don’t mock him so. When I met you, you had an accent so thick I couldn’t make heads or tails of what you said. You three are much more bearable now that you at least attempt to speak properly.” Tommard chastised Lucius before Ferret could respond. “Fair enough,” Lucius said as he backed off with an easy smile. Ben stood up and all eyes went to him.
“I think we should be going now, Lucius,” Ben told him. Lucius raised an eyebrow. “It’s a bit early still.” He spoke. Ben shook his head. “We ought to arrive early, we ought to be thoughtful to the septas and septons who are preparing the place for our vigil.” He told Lucius. Ben’s mother was a very religious woman, if she as much as caught a whiff that Ben had kept a man or woman of the faith waiting she would smack him silly. Lucius shrugged and stood up.
They went upstairs briefly to change clothes into the more appropriate white velvet tunics and other garments, Ben wore his only pair of boots, he wouldn’t need them for long anyway, as they would be barefoot from the vigil to the knighting ceremony.
A few minutes later they came back downstairs where Tommard and Ferret hugged them and congratulated them. “Go on, we’ll go see your ceremony tomorrow. We’ll drink to your success on your vigil!” Ferret exclaimed as they left.
They walked silently towards the Great Sept, although the city’s loud noises didn’t allow Ben to think much at all. Every step he took unnerved him more, he eyed Lucius walking next to him. Lucius seemed pensive; he looked forwards seemingly absentmindedly slowly walking with his hands held together behind his back. He was much calmer than Ben. Ben didn’t know why but he was more scared at this moment than he had been at any moment during the Battle of the Bells, death didn’t scare him as much as messing up now. This was everything he had ever wanted.
Before he knew it his feet had taken him to the Great Sept of Baelor. The Sept was the grandest place of worship Ben had ever seen. The gardens around the Sept were a colourful but serene place. They walked through the gardens and passed by the statue of Baelor the blessed, it was very detailed, and Ben could even make out a kind expression on the face of the devout King. He observed the seven towers, they were made seven tall towers made of the same white marble that the marble plaza around the Sept and the Sept itself. On top of the towers, there were seven giant pyramids made of crystals which painted the city with vivid rainbows as the setting sun lighted them sideways. Below the crystal tops, there were seven massive bells. They walked across the marble plaza, it was almost empty, a few people going in and out of the sept and some passing by. They climbed the steps of the sept and reached the doors of the entrance hall.
There was a young man with a shaved head waiting for them there, he approached and made a gesture for them to go inside. “I’m the Holy Brother Tybolt. You are knights-to-be I assume? Come with me, I’ll guide you through the preparations for your vigil.” Tybolt didn’t wait for them to respond and began walking towards the entrance. The entrance hall was as magnificent as the rest of the sept. The walls of the hall depicted the history of the faith, as he walked a vivid painting of the Father bringing seven stars down from the skies and placing them on Hugor’s of the Hill brow to form his crown. Above them, hundreds of beautiful globes of coloured leaded glass adorned the ceiling.
Before they entered the Sept proper, Tybolt led them to a relatively small antechamber containing only a fountain coming from the wall falling into a shallow pool. “You may proceed to take your cleansing bath in this room, I’ll be waiting for you by the statue of the Warrior. You can leave your boots here when you are done, I’ll come back and keep them safe for you until after the knighting ceremony.” Tybolt told them before leaving, closing the carved wooden door behind him.
Lucius turned towards Ben. “How are you feeling?” He asked. “Like I’m in the seventh heaven. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.” Ben said while taking out his boots and other clothes before stepping inside the pool. “Well,” Lucius said before holding some water from the fountain and splashing it in his face. “Enjoy it, we’ve earned it. But I was asking about your rib, you haven’t moved this much since the battle.” He said. Ben just shrugged. “I’m alright, I feel like I’m healed already,” Ben told him. “Good.” Was Lucius' answer.
They continued to bathe in silence. Eventually, they stepped out of the pool and dried themselves with towels that were left on a wooden stool by the door. They dressed again but left their boots on the antechamber. They left the room and found Tybolt further down the hall, he guided them towards the statue of the Warrior, two cushions had been placed on the floor in front of it. Tybolt made a gesture encouraging them towards the cushions, they knelt on them. “You are to kneel before the warrior until dawn, you will know it is dawn when the room is lightened up with the colours of the rainbow. You may pray or remain silent as you, please. May the Crone watch over your vigil.” The Holy Brother said before walking away.
The vigil was a long and boring affair, minutes passed like they were hours and hours like they lasted forever. Ben had to stop himself from closing his eyes more than a few times. He watched the statue for hours. The gilded statue stood twenty feet tall, the Warrior held a great sword and an ornamented helm covered his face. It was a pretty statue, more detailed than Baelor’s, it conveyed no emotions. A tool of war. But there was emotion in war. Scared green eyes haunted Ben all night.
Ben's mind was wandering to the mysteries of the afterlife when a dim rainbow touched the helm of the Warrior. Suddenly he felt a finger poking the back of his head. He turned around to Lucius smiling at him. “The sun is up. Better not keep Prince Rhaegar waiting.” Ben’s friend patted him on the head and shook one leg and then the other. Ben stood up and blood came rushing down his legs, he felt tickles and slight pain, walking helped. The Sept was empty except for the occasional Silent Sister walking by them. The floor marble felt cold on Ben’s feet. They left the temple and began their journey towards the Red Keep, another Holy Brother holding their boots was waiting for them at the door to accompany them on their path, but he didn’t give them his name.
They walked through the streets of the city barefoot, Ben stepped over dirt and mud and smudgy stuff he didn’t know what it was, and neither did he want to know. The people of King’s Landing didn’t pay much attention to them, the traders sold, the gold cloaks watched, and the smallfolk bought and worked and laboured. It took them half an hour to reach the King’s square.
There they found a small gathering. Some gold cloaks kept the curious onlookers a safe distance away from the prince who was waiting for them in a black and red silk tunic. Two of the Kingsguard stood behind him, one was Ser Lewyn Martell, and the other Ben didn’t recognize. Next to him stood the High Septon wearing grey satin robes and atop his head a crystal crown. Ben and Lucius walked toward the prince until they stood before him. “Kneel.” The prince bid them and so they knelt. The High Septon stepped forward and anointed Ben with seven oils, and then he went to Lucius and anointed him. “Both of you have demonstrated honour and bravery during the Battle of the Bells! Your Ser, my friend, Ser Myles Mooton has spoken highly of your valour during the battle, as have a dozen other knights!” The prince spoke loudly for all those present to hear.
The prince moved towards Lucius and placed his sword on Lucius’ shoulder. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women. In the name of the Smith, I charge you to be diligent. In the name of the Crone, I charge you to seek wisdom. In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to be ready.” The prince’s sword moved from one shoulder to the other with each sentence. “Now rise, Ser Lucius Aurelius!” The prince said, Lucius stood up and Prince Rhaegar put his hand on Lucius’ shoulder. “Congratulations.” The prince whispered. The prince then moved in front of Ben. Ben was staring down while the prince was dubbing him, the prince was wearing a nice pair of black leather boots. “Now rise, Ser Ben the Daring!” Ser Ben the Daring rose and the prince hugged him briefly before looking him in the eyes. The prince’s deep purple eyes stared at him kindly. “Thank you for saving Ser Myles.” The prince smiled at him. Ben could see Prince Rhaegar was kin of King Baelor, he looked a lot like the pious King’s statue when he smiled like that.