Re: At The Lists
Myrwin's next few lists went as smoothly as his first - unhorsing a Tully, a Fossoway (red apple), and even a scion of Highgarden.
He was sore and something in his chest didn't care for his activities much, but he did have a big old smile on his face.
But now all the beardless boys, sellswords, hedge-knights, and poor jousters had been eliminated. The ones who remained were the cream of the crop, the best of the best. Dangerous men, languid men, innocent-looking men, even a few grizzled veterans.
And not all of the pack that remained was highborn.
His next list went for a full three lances, Myrwin narrowly escaping being unhorsed before his foe finally got a foot tangled in a stirrup and being dragged through the stables by his oblivious mount.