NOVEL NEXT Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Training…
Rolly overpowered me every time we sparred. My knowledge of medieval combat didn't help against an opponent who knew what he was doing.
It didn't help that in my former life I'd never been the most athletic person, instead I focused my time on more intellectual pursuits like reading or researching random things – most of which would prove utterly useless.
What use was repairing a computer in a medieval setting? Here, the only thing I had on my side was a knowledge of books and history.
Throughout my life I loved learning about the past. At school, I learned about medicine and public health from the Stone Age to the Modern Age, even though I've forgotten some of it.
Others were the Norman Invasion of England as well as the Weimar Republic and the rise of the Nazis. I know they'll prove useful in various ways.
I was too immersed in my own thoughts when Duck hit me on the side. I yelped and fell backwards to the amusement of the older man.
Grunting, I looked at the area of impact and grimaced. Rolly wasn't a gentle man and, without any padding, the area would surely bruise. It had been what he offered me and something I foolishly accepted.
This was perhaps the first time I'd been struck, ever, being the cautious person I was. It most certainly won't be the last if the people around me had their way.
"You're dead," Haldon informed me on the deck of the boat. "If that was sharpened steel, you'd be missing your arm and be bleeding out on the ground."
"Thank you for that lovely picture," I shot back, staring at the blood from where my tunic was cut open. The sword may have been blunted, but it was still a thin piece of metal.
"I just hope you have the skills to treat me if that was the case." I then remembered about Varys' little monologue at the end of Dance. I should know how to bind up my own wounds. 'Honey, that's a decent antiseptic . . .'
"Of course. Wouldn't want you to bleed to death now would we?"
.…
A week or so passed before Griff considered me physically well enough to travel. None of the gang had taken the amnesia thing all that well, so they'd been busy debating on what to do.
In the end it was agreed they'll continue and simply fill in the gaps of my education. I suppose I should be thankful that I wasn't at a later date.
It was the year 294AC in the Westerosi calendar and I had much to learn while sailing up and down the Rhoyne on a rugged poleboat named the Shy Maid.
I continued with Aegon's studies which were very much standard for a prince of the royal blood.
From Haldon I learned history, philosophy, law, maths, writing, reasoning, sciences and languages of the various dialects of Valyrian.
My twenty-first century education was much more expansive than what Haldon taught and, as I was mentally an adult, I aced much of those things.
I also was much more eager than Young Griff to get into arguments about things I was obviously correct about, so instead of learning we spent much of our time bickering.
From Septa Lemore I was taught subjects like poetry, music and theology, which included a fair bit of astronomy.
Westerosi etiquette was very important as well. I had to talk a certain way, move a certain way and follow various customs that seemed meaningless.
I never considered myself a people person and socialising was more draining than the various marital pursuits I needed to practise with Rolly.
The former blacksmith taught me to fight with various weapons like polearms, swords, maces and hammers, not to mention various drills to improve my strength.
Lord Jon Connington, meanwhile, taught me how to lead, run a court and how to command – from whole campaigns to smaller groups of men.
After all, a prince was expected to lead men into battle and therefore have a fair knowledge of military strategy and tactics.
Even more so when they were expecting to retake Westeros in the name of House Targaryen. I was taught strategies battles using a bunch of clay figures Haldon had and various wargames which were especially fun.
In these scenarios I paid particular attention to logistics. As much as it often went unheeded – and Joncon certainly didn't like it – I knew from history that the logistical side of things like feeding an army and making sure they were properly equipped was the most essential even if it didn't lend itself to be flashy or exciting.
'After all, for want of a horse the rider was lost, for want of a message the battle was lost, for want of a battle the kingdom was lost. All for the want of a horseshoe nail.'
Despite my earlier hesitance, I enjoyed these lessons besides some of it being completely redundant.
Learning was something that always fascinated me. I adored history both from this world and the world I left behind, so I absorbed everything like a sponge.
They were certainly aware of it and when Haldon commented that I changed, I simply blushed at the praise and said losing my memory had changed me.
It wasn't all good though. It was very strange to hear them call me Young Griff, Griff or Griffin. Only inside the deck did they call me Aegon.
My former life . . . I wasn't him any more in body, only in mind. That was a problem I had.
The only knowledge of this world I had came from the books. While they gave me something to work with, it wasn't enough. Nor did I have the knowledge Aegon had.
The best thing I had in my arsenal, something the other characters lacked, was foresight. I needed every advantage I could get, after all.
I'd be playing against people like Littlefinger, Tywin Lannister and the rest of them.