Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Joel received a raven from House Rowan not long before House Webber's forces arrived, informing him of a critical development: the combined armies of House Rowan and House Oakheart had successfully routed the bandits in Red Lake Forest. However, the bandits had not suffered significant casualties and were now retreating toward Standfast. Joel's earlier suspicions were confirmed; the bandits seemed intent on escaping into the mountains near Cornfield through hidden smuggling tunnels.

Whether by design or oversight, the forces of House Rowan and House Oakheart had left the bandits' core strength intact. This decision shifted the burden of interception and annihilation onto Joel and his forces, with instructions accompanying the raven to ensure the bandits were trapped and dealt with near Standfast.

What House Rowan had not anticipated was the arrival of House Webber's full force. Their determination to clear their name had bolstered Joel's army significantly, enabling him to alter his plans. Instead of relying on forest ambushes, Joel decided to position his forces in a small valley where the bandits would have no choice but to pass, setting the stage for a decisive confrontation.

In Standfast's council chamber, Joel stood over a rough map of the area, pointing to a marked location. "You lead ten men and take up position at Hornridge," he instructed Lynd. "Build a signal bonfire. If any bandits pass through, light it and hold them off until we arrive."

Lynd frowned slightly. During his earlier reconnaissance, he had passed Hornridge. It was a natural choke point, the only path leading to the cliff trail that accessed the smuggling tunnel. While it was an excellent location for an ambush, it was unlikely to see much action. If the main force held the valley as planned, no bandits would reach Hornridge. The assignment felt more like being sidelined than a genuine strategic position.

Suppressing his dissatisfaction, Lynd offered a calm suggestion. "I've scouted Hornridge. It's easy to defend and doesn't require extra manpower. Besides, the men you assign may lack the skill to keep up with me. In the event of an encounter, they could become a liability. I can hold the position alone."

The room fell silent. Joel's knights and the contingent from House Webber stared at Lynd in disbelief. Soldiers often clamored for more men to bolster their ranks, not fewer. This was the first time any of them had heard someone outright refuse reinforcements.

Among Joel's knights, the reaction was dismissive—Lynd seemed arrogant and reckless. The knights from House Webber, on the other hand, grew more curious. They had already noticed Lynd's unique position. Unlike the knights, squires, and lords who filled the room, Lynd was the only one in civilian attire, an anomaly that piqued their interest.

Joel, his expression unreadable, regarded Lynd coldly. "What makes you think you can stop the fleeing bandits by yourself?" he asked.

"I'm a hunter," Lynd replied evenly. "I know how to set traps. I doubt fleeing bandits will be harder to deal with than a mountain bear."

Joel studied Lynd for a moment before nodding. "Fine. You will defend Hornridge alone."

With his assignment clear, Lynd felt no need to linger. He turned to leave, but before he could step away, Earl Morison, who had recently recovered from his earlier humiliation, stood and interjected.

"Lord Joel," Morison began, his voice laced with formality, "while I do not doubt this hunter's abilities, he is but one man. If bandits escape from the position he is defending, it could appear as though we intentionally allowed them to flee. Such a failure could fuel rumors and accusations, particularly concerning the remnants of the Targaryens. This could cause serious trouble for all of us."

Joel's lips curved into a faint smile. He turned to Lynd, his tone sharp. "If anyone escapes from your position, you'll be declared an accomplice to the bandits and wanted across the realm. Knowing this, do you still intend to defend Hornridge alone?"

The room waited, expecting Lynd to relent. Instead, he maintained his calm demeanor. With a slight smile, he nodded at Joel. Saying nothing, he turned and walked out of the council chamber.

Earl Morison started to call after Lynd, confused by his abrupt departure. "Stop right there, you haven't—"

"Enough!" Joel cut him off sharply. His voice carried authority that silenced the room. "This matter is decided. Instead of wasting your breath on trivialities, focus your energy on the battle ahead."

Joel's eyes swept over his squires, his tone growing harsher. "Your houses have sent you here to make a name for yourselves, to achieve glory. I don't want to see any of you end up as corpses sent back to your families. This is war, not some leisurely autumn hunt for the amusement of lords and ladies. Is that clear?"

The squires, chastened and humiliated, nodded in silence. Even the Knights of House Webber, who had no part in the reprimand, felt the sting of embarrassment. Joel's words cut through the room, turning the previously tense but informal atmosphere into one of somber seriousness.

Fortunately, Joel moved swiftly to refocus attention on the battle preparations, detailing orders for fortifications and troop positions. This shift eased the tension somewhat, but curiosity lingered. Many, especially the Knights of House Webber, exchanged glances, their interest in Lynd piqued. Whispers about his identity were inevitable, and they resolved to question Joel's squires when the opportunity arose.

Meanwhile, Lynd had arrived at the leatherworking workshop, where the atmosphere was markedly different from before. The leatherworker who had previously gone out of his way to be unhelpful now greeted Lynd with a deferential bow. He hurriedly fetched the modified leather armor from a nearby shelf.

"This set of armor has been adjusted according to your specifications, my lord," the leatherworker said, his tone polite and cautious. "Please try it on and let me know if there's anything else that needs improvement."

Lynd examined the armor carefully. The adjustments had been made precisely as he requested, with additional thin Steelskin plates subtly integrated to improve its defensive capabilities. When he tried it on, the straps fastened securely, and the overlapping edges of the Steelskins reduced vulnerable gaps without limiting his movement.

"Not bad, not bad!" Lynd said with a nod of approval. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two silver stags and tossed them to the leatherworker. "A good job deserves a reward."

The leatherworker caught the coins and quickly wiped the sweat from his brow. "Thank you, my lord. It's an honor."

Lynd then asked, "Do you have any ropes?"

"How thick do you need them, Lord?" the leatherworker inquired.

Lynd described the length and thickness he required. The leatherworker disappeared into the storeroom and returned with several bundles of sturdy hemp rope, the type typically used for binding prisoners. "Will these suffice?"

"Yes, these will do nicely," Lynd replied, testing the rope with a firm tug. He was satisfied with its strength and durability. He reached for another silver stag, but the leatherworker waved it away.

"No, no, my lord! These are standard supplies. There's no need to pay," he insisted.

Lynd didn't argue, slipping the coin back into his pocket. Slinging the rope over his shoulder, he nodded in thanks and left the workshop.

Once outside the castle, Lynd made his way toward Hornridge, moving with purpose. From Joel's briefing earlier, it was clear that the bandits would reach the area by morning at the earliest. This left him only a single night to prepare.

The journey to Hornridge was slow and arduous under the cover of darkness. Even with the inherited skills of a seasoned hunter, navigating the rough terrain at night was a challenge. The darkness stretched the trek, and by the time Lynd reached Hornridge, it had taken him nearly twice as long as it would have during the day.

Upon arriving at Hornridge, Lynd wasted no time and immediately began setting up traps. His earlier reconnaissance proved invaluable; he had already marked optimal locations for traps, allowing him to work efficiently without revisiting decisions. Collecting materials as he worked, he meticulously laid each trap according to the plans he had formed during the day.

Working alone under the cloak of night, Lynd continued until midnight before he finally finished. Along the way, a lone wolf attempted to ambush him, but Lynd dispatched it swiftly. While disposing of the wolf's body, the scent of blood attracted other carnivores. Fortunately, his quick thinking in throwing the carcass far away kept the scavengers from interfering with his traps.

The traps themselves were a testament to Lynd's ingenuity. Combining techniques inherited from his predecessor, who had once hunted a mountain bear with traps, with methods he had seen on military survival shows in his previous life, Lynd created powerful and almost indefensible devices. These enhancements made the traps lethal and difficult to detect, ensuring their effectiveness against any would-be escapees.

Though traps might lack the honor of direct combat, Lynd prioritized merit over fame. His reputation as both a bear hunter and a skilled swordsman had already grown beyond what his current status could support. Excessive renown, as he'd seen with Earl Morison's petty challenges, often attracted unnecessary trouble. For now, subtlety was a better strategy, and traps served as the perfect tool to dampen overblown expectations while still achieving results.

However, Lynd's plans hinged on one uncertainty: whether the bandits would actually use the smuggling tunnel. Neither he nor Joel could guarantee it. Joel's decision to place Lynd at the rear seemed more political than strategic, likely to placate the noble families behind the six squires who had been publicly humiliated by Lynd's earlier actions. These squires, temporary appointees from noble houses seeking prestige, were less warriors and more political pawns. Their poor combat skills and lack of battlefield experience made their presence unusual, especially for someone like Joel, whose reputation as a master swordsman and tactician—despite his bastardy—had earned him acclaim in the Reach.

Lynd paid little mind to these dynamics. His focus was on seizing the opportunity before him. After finishing the traps, he concealed himself in a well-chosen ambush point, gathered damp branches for a hidden campfire, and prepared dry kindling. Settling in, he began his vigil, periodically allowing himself brief, light naps to maintain his alertness.

As dawn approached, the world around Hornridge transformed. A thick mist descended, shrouding the area in a damp, ghostly haze. The mountain wind brought a cold drizzle, turning the forest into a landscape of shadowy forms and muffled sounds. The rain and fog reduced visibility drastically, an advantage for Lynd, whose sharp vision still allowed him to perceive distant details.

In the faint morning light, he spotted rising black smoke from the direction of the main battlefield. The telltale sign of burning indicated that the fight had begun, marking the first clash of the day.