Snippet #1466493

Richard rode his horse along the length of the column. His mail shimmered in the sunlight, and the pale blue cloak he wore, bearing his house sigil, flapped lazily in the breeze. He was anxious, tired, sore, and nervous. The column had been moving for some time and now the end was finally in reach. The closer they got, the more he wished to be there. Soon enough they would arrive at King’s Landing, and all Richard wanted to do was turn around. Over all he had mixed feelings about the whole trip. Part of him wanted nothing more than to get to the tourney. Part of him could not stop longing to return to the forests around Winterfell. And part of him wished they could have made this boring, monotonous, tiresome journey by sea. At least on a ship he would have had something better to do that ride up and down the column checking in with all the guards and carriages. Of course he didn’t let any of this show. No, it wouldn’t do to let anything but determination show. He headed for the head of the column for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“Anything new, Simon?” Richard queried as he came upon the head of the forward guard.

“Nothing yet, Sir,” the man replied. “It’s been a rather uneventful trip so far, hasn’t it?”

Richard paused for a moment but decided to let the conversation continue. “Indeed it has. We’ve seen, what, eight or nine bandits this entire time?”

“My thinking is, they recognize our banners and turn back in fear. Few men dare oppose a Greyhardt. And those who do are fools.”

The guardsman was obviously being a suck-up, trying to get a bonus or even promotion. Normally Richard wouldn’t stand for it. Men should earn their ranks by proving their worth, not kissing the feet of those in power. But for now he would just try to enjoy the little conversation.

“’A wolf will fight to protect its own, and fight hard at that…’ right? Be sure to let me know when our destination is in sight. Cary on.” Richard turned his mount about and stopped on the side of the trail.

Slowly the caravans rolled past. To each he nodded, taking a rough count of the people as they went by. Though his current duties as leader of the guard did not require it, Richard felt this important. As the women’s carriage went past, he made brief eye contact with his mother and younger sister. The Queen Greyhardt had been ever kind to her son, and Richard thought back to all the times she had reassured him of his worth to the family. He knew his mother was proud of him, even if it still seemed that his father felt differently. Yet that was of little concern at the moment.

His younger sister was to be wedded on this trip. And to Prince Damian of all people. Richard understood the political reasoning behind it, but the whole thing still bothered him. The family breakup he could handle, though he cared much for Isabel, and he knew that she would be able to cope as well. And it wasn’t that he hated the Damian boy, sure they didn’t get along that well and were favored opponents in tourneys, but he could be dealt with. There was just something about his rival marrying Isabel that bothered Richard. Regardless, he no longer had a say in the matter. Besides, there was a tourney to take his mind off things and he had duties to attend to now.

He had just reached the end of the procession when he saw Leliana draw her bow. At her shout, Richard prodded his horse into a gallop. Silently he begged for something interesting to be happening. A gang of highwaymen or a pack of wild dogs. His hopes were dashed as he saw the skewered rabbit. He sighed.

“Leli, Leli, Leli… You can put her in a dress, make her look like a lady, but you can’t suppress the huntress,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. He slowed his horse and returned to patrolling the column.