Robert made the first move, rushing forward and striking his hammer like it were a bat, a swing from below. He roared at the same time, his voice deep and heavy. "Haaaa!"
Wylis remained in position, unmoving, as if frozen. The crowd in the stands stopped shouting to hear the first exchange. Nobody really knew who was going to win that duel since both the warriors seemed equal.
But Wylis erased that confusion right away. He had no need to hold back anymore. While he never used earthbending, nor did he plan to now, the sword mastery he'd bought was the most superior level anyone could achieve. A level Robert wasn't at yet.
And combining hand-to-hand mastery.
Instead of the sword, Wylis lifted his right foot, and from the flat surface below, he smashed down at the oncoming hammer.
Clank!
Bam!
Wylis nullified Robert's powerful hammer with a mere kick of his foot.
"My turn!" Wylis swung his greatsword sideways. Speed was on his side.
CLASH!
He struck the blunt blade into Robert's left shoulder.
CLASH!
By the time Robert raised his hammer back up, Wylis was fast on his feet. He struck Robert's waist then, hard enough to make the big Baratheon grunt.
But after that, Robert took a full defensive stance and blocked Wylis' attacks. However, Robert had no way of attacking as Wylis' reach was far too long and he was short. Wylis maintained a perfect distance between them while moving around, tiring Robert even more.
It didn't help that Robert's armor had more plates and hence heavier.
"You… Wylis!" Robert boomed, surging forward to close the gap. "Are among the finest warriors I've met in life!"
"Likewise!" Wylis replied and acted as if he was going to meet Robert head-on.
Woosh!
But just as Robert reached him, Wylis side-stepped and smashed the flat side of his sword on Robert's back, throwing him straight into the ground on his hands and knees, his hammer lost from his tight grip.
The crowd roared in cheers. Excitement was palpable. Wylis felt like an actor with countless fans. Before, one could dismiss him as a simple giant who used his size to defeat others. But now, against Robert, he'd shown his prowess. Nobody could deny his mastery anymore.
And, he was also honorable as he didn't attack Robert after falling.
"Ugh…" Robert got up, tired and panting like a dying horse. He quickly removed his helmet and looked at Wylis. "Go ahead—land the final strike."
Wylis shook his head, not done with the spectacle. Instead of attacking, he threw away the greatsword and removed his helmet again. "Fancy a bout of fists? Let's see whose punch carries more weight."
Robert grinned and raised his fists, ready to throw hands. "Don't cry if you lose now."
Wylis said nothing and moved forward with raised fists. He didn't plan on dragging this out for too long, but to win that Arbor Gold, he had to throw Robert on his ass.
Bam!
Wylis ducked and jabbed at Robert's belly where the armor wasn't that strong.
Bam!
Wylis dodged again, avoiding Robert's grappling hand as the man tried to wrestle him to the ground. This time, Wylis used his body weight and slammed his shoulder into Robert's belly, wrapping his arms around the big Baratheon.
"Ghaaaa!" Wylis roared and lifted Robert into the air, a feat that was shocking to most. "How's the weather up there?"
THUD!
With that, Wylis tackled him down straight to the ground. He moved fast and straddled Robert's chest, pressing his knees on Robert's arms to lock him in place. Then, with a quick hand, Wylis snatched a blunt dagger from his waist and aimed it at Robert's neck.
"DOWN!" Came the call for the end of the duel.
At last, Wylis was out of breath, but not as much as Robert.
"Lord Stark's a fool," Robert grumbled from underneath Wylis' weight. "You've got more skill than all those armored peacocks combined. Seven Hells, maybe I should knight you myself!"
In his heart, Wylis felt the same. He'd shown his abilities so well in the hopes of receiving a knighthood. But Rickard Stark had only ignored him. If not for Lyanna, he wouldn't even be there at the tourney.
"I'd like that, but Lord Stark would probably exile me then."
"Then I'll make you a landed knight in Stormlands," Robert offered.
Fuck no! Knowing the mess you'll create, I'd rather stay in the North. It's harsh but peaceful.
"Thank you for the offer, my Lord."
Wylis got off Robert and offered his hand.
Robert grabbed it and got up, laughing as if he didn't just get his ass handed to him. But Robert was such a man who didn't hold grudges and acknowledged if the other man was better than him. At that moment, he recognized Wylis' talents.
Clap!
Clap!
Ugh… Fuck, why's he clapping of all people.
Wylis noticed the Mad King had gotten up from his seat and clapped towards him. He was the first, so the rest of the audience followed his gesture.
While he didn't want the King's attention, it was unavoidable. So, he bowed towards the Mad King until the fragile filth of a King left the stands.
After that, Wylis and Robert walked out of the fighting grounds.
"Don't forget the promise." Wylis reminded Brandon on the way.
Sighing, Brandon nodded. But then he punched Wylis on his arm. "My friend, you're the hero tonight—twenty thousand gold dragons richer. You should be the one treating us."
"I will, but Arbor Gold comes first."
"Bahah! Come to my tent, Wylis. I'll treat you to the finest wine," Robert offered from the side.
Brandon's eyes narrowed as he stepped between Robert and Wylis, his voice a low growl. "Keep those eyes off of my little squire, Robert. He's not one of your whores that you can just have."
"..."
That feels… insulting.
"Then I'll knight him and give him some land." Robert declared.
"Fuck that, I'll knight the lad myself before you can blink. I'm heir to Winterfell—my word is law. He'll have enough land to ride a day and not see the end of it."
Silently, Wylis listened to them compete on who could give him more. But realistically, he knew that Robert was the better choice. Not now, of course.
Just one more year.
####
There was no great feast, but every night was a feast nonetheless. The difference for Wylis was that he walked around with his head held high now. He didn't need to tell anyone who he was. Everyone already knew him. He was the talk of the town. However, the ladies still didn't approach him for the dance.
And sadly, with so many eyes on him, including the King, he couldn't sneak into Lyanna's room anymore. He really wanted to, no he needed to spend the night with her to calm his nerves and body. Sort of a victory celebration on the bed.
But it was far too risky. Hence, he decided to maintain distance for the duration of the tourney.
After the feast, he left the castle to prepare himself for the next day's archery tournament. At the large tent, he checked the bow and arrows and then started practicing his speed and accuracy. It was late at night, so most men were asleep, and only the torches lit the open area where he'd set up the range.
As Brandon's squire, and now melee champion, he could order around Stark soldiers to work for him. Not that he needed that in the first place. He was loved and liked by everyone in Winterfell and Winter Town.
Woosh!
Woosh!
The competition was pretty simple. Each round made the target more distant. Each round gave the archer three arrows. Points were given based on how close to the bullseye one strikes. Of course, bullseye was the best. Each round eliminated a few from the lowest end, and if even after the farthest distance there were more participants left, the targets would be set as moving or smaller in size.
Shouldn't be an issue. Wylis measured his aim and power.
"Ehm… Set for another victory, Ser Wylis of Winterfell? At this rate, one might think you're vying for more than just the prize—perhaps a lady's favor?"
He recognized that voice right away. He turned around and looked at her, as beautiful as the last night, but more modestly dressed now with a cloak on her shoulders. But her face alone was enough to earn his attention.
"Lady Ashara." He put away the bow and arrow. "I suppose it's safe here but still, a beauty like you wandering about at this hour? Even the shadows might get ideas."
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