Snippet #1483509

Jamie stood in one of the courtyards of the Eyrie, it was the training yard for the soldiers and Knights sworn to Lord Winsler's service. The thump of arrows hitting straw butts could be heard, with the harsh clanging of swordsman training underscoring it. The future tourney champion was little more then a child, tall for his age but still young. In his childish features burned a anger that would one day lead to his reckless reputation.

" How many times must I tell you Master Jamie blind rage isn't going to get you anywhere in a real fight. I know what your going through and by the Warrior I know I'd be as angry as you are. But beating the sons of your father's sworn houses isn't going to bring her back. Now pick up a waster and try and pay attention." The hawk eyed master of arms Lord Winsler employed said berating the future knight in a cold and harsh tone that was betrayed by the sorrow in those hawk eyes of his.

" Uncontrolled rage, the berserker's fury is a fearsome enough sight. You've proved it yourself, beating those poor boys bloody. How many were there, 6 or 7 if I remember right. They couldn't do a damn thing to stop you could they. But afterwards the pain set in, so did the exhaustion right. Well in a real fight against real swordsmen that pain and exhaustion will kick in a lot sooner. And that kind of anger blinds you, you lose sight of everything but killing everything in front of you. You'll take a lot of stupid hits, and real swords cut Jamie. They sever the blood vessels so that you bleed to death, cut off limbs so you can't fight. Against a opponent with as much skill as you a unthinking fury will lead to your death."

And as the words left the hawk eyed master of arms mouth he moved forward bringing his sword, a real blade of castle forged steel whistling down to rest before Jamie's eyes. The child did not flinch, only looked more closely at the master of arms with those anger filled features of his.

" It's apparent I'll never teach you the true calm a swordsman should have Master Jamie. But by the Warrior I'll teach you how anger should be used. Let it fill your mind and body, like the rushing high of intoxication Jamie but like wine never let it go to your head. Use it boy and never let it use you or you will end up in a early grave. When controlled anger is in your veins Jamie it makes you invincible as any being of such frail flesh and blood has a right to be. It'll sharpen your reflexes and make you more aware of the environment around you.But never forget controlled anger is the lesser of all techniques, it is the resort of lesser men of weaker wills. It is barely higher on the tree of skill then a berserker's fury."


The lesson from so long ago never seemed more poignant then right now as the crowd cleared from the melee ground and his brother was taken away in a stretcher. He had almost given into the berserker's fury when King Damian, the thrice accursed dung heap, dared to soil the memory of a woman he killed. Had it not been for Eilis blood might have very well been shed here today, and it at Jamie's hand. Not that he valued Damian blood all that high, but Eilis was right this was neither the time nor place. The opportunity he had been awaiting for had not come yet, it would show itself when it was damn well and ready.

So he calmed himself down, though not to the level his old master of arms had spoken of. That hawk eyed swordsman had been right when he said Jamie would never truly reach that skill level. His past and memories simply forbid it, especially in the presence of the man who had killed his mother. So it was with glee he watched Lionel herded away by the Damian's Maester, noting the thrown gauntlet. Unlike the rest of the Prince's armor it was not black but dark gray, and had ornate scrollwork.

The valyrian steel armor I gave him, no wonder he could block so well with his arms. Jamie thought watching the armored fighting glove hit the ground.

Somewhat surprising were the wounds he bore underneath it. Lionel's arm was a mess, with deep twin gashes that bled quite well, such cuts were prone to infection given they healed slowly. The Maester and Lionel argued over it briefly with the prince winning. Leaving towards his pavilion the Prince was gone long enough for the crowd to return to their seats and for Jamie to let his anger suffuse him but not go to his head, it was the one mental technique he had mastered. His blood boiled but his eyesight did not go red as it did when the King insulted his mother's memory. He felt every sensation acutely yet distantly as if he was another person watching himself. The feel of the air, the stares of the Damian's, the flowing of his own blood and the beating of his own heart.

Jamie was ready and so was Lionel who returned with obvious bandages underneath what was most likely his old gauntlet. Jamie smiled, though it was hidden behind his helmet. The Dragon could have told him valyrian steel cuts through lesser materials with no effort. And given his foolish blocking with his arm and Kervall's strength it was no wonder the valyrian gauntlet had cut into his flesh. Still it was a wonder, he had not been expecting such a thing to happen.

The Herald had barely announced the match was on when Lionel came charging at Jamie, murder clearly his intent. The berserker's fury it seemed once more had claimed Lionel. But Jamie fighting as he did with his controlled anger met each attack cleanly although the force behind each was something else. He was reduced to feinting with his sword to tempt Lionel in attacking that area then if all went well blocking with a quick twist of his shield. Though the fury of Lionel made it difficult to say the least, for there simply was no way to predict which way his blows would come. Jamie had long given up trying to read Lionel and simply focused on the moving of the prince's body to predict where attacks were coming from.

Despite it all Jamie managed quite a series of clean hits upon Lionel, for his enemy simply abandoned defense. He was glad of the height difference between them as it gave him just a little bit longer of a reach.But it was like hitting a straw doll in the training yard. Lionel simply absorbed each blow as if nothing had happen to him, snarling like a possessed man.

But even the unthinking Lionel in his fury landed more then the fair share of blows as well. But unlike the lightly armored Kervall the Dragon was wearing full plate. Still even with the padded tunic underneath the plate the blows were felt keenly.

Realizing conventional strategies needed to be thrown out the window Jamie focused on defending, only striking when Lionel overextended himself. It was not a posture the normally aggressive Jamie took but in a match of fury Lionel would win. And little bit by little bit he was gaining the advantage, he was doing less defending and more attacking. Jamie finally realized the wisdom in the master of arms lesson so long ago . Lionel was tired, his movements were growing slower and his attacks almost became predictable, almost that is.

Now it was only a matter of time before victory would be Jamie's, the cheers of the crowd became louder, especially from the houses sworn to Winsler. He pressed his attacks further as Lionel realized he was losing, and even was beginning to lose heart.

But fate is a fickle mistress and when he could taste victory he felt a sharp jab to his body, a general sensation centered around his left ribs which weren't covered by his shield, then a kick to his knee. He glared at Lionel through his helmet's visor. This was outright cheating, but the motions were being covered by speed and attacks on Lionel's part. Despite the disadvantage it put him in Jamie refused to cheat himself, he would go down at least as honoring the code of The Warrior. Even if only he and Lionel knew that it would be enough for him.

And a disadvantage it was the kicks and elbows enough to foil masterfully planned attacks. His thrusts and parries spoiled by knees that bent with the force of Lionel's kicks for to tense up would mean a broken knee or shin. " Go ahead you low born bastard cheat if it makes you feel better. We both know you lost already." Jamie spoke as their blades locked together after Jamie abandoned his defensive posture for all out attack, his voice dripping with contempt.

Pushing off Lionel's weapon Jamie created a sizable gap between them. It was only a matter of time before Lionel's cheating ways won him this final round of the tourney but he would force the prince to earn his win. He wasn't going to surrender like Kervall had, no plea for a yield would cross his lips. The crowd watched in awe as what looked like a victory for Jamie turned into a hard fought likely win for Lionel.

" What are you waiting for you whoreson bastard, a bloody fucking invitation. Well come and get it if you have enough balls." Jamie shouted at his enemy loud enough to make the crowd gasp in shock. He then charged Lionel knowing it would not end well but determined to prove to the prince at least his honor was worth more then shit.