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Egg’s brother Aemon had measured him in Oldtown, and found he lacked an inch of seven feet, but that was half a year ago. He might have grown since. Growing was the one thing that Dunk did really well, the old man used to say. (The Sworn Sword)
The relief on Ser Duncan’s face was palpable to Maester Aemon. The ship carrying them to Eastwatch had arrived safely without interception, without any of the prisoners bound for the Wall escaping captivity. The specter of Aegor Rivers and his rescue at sea when the ship carrying him to the Wall was intercepted by his supporters must have been foremost in Ser Duncan’s mind, and in the king’s mind as well, with Brynden Rivers being the most notable prisoner aboard the Golden Dragon.
“Had I truly wished to escape my punishment, I could have done so even before we departed King’s Landing. I know the Red Keep and the city like no other man alive. It would have been mere child’s play for me to arrange my escape. Your fear is completely unfounded, Ser Duncan,” Bloodraven remarked, with some amusement.
Only moments later, however, with considerably less amusement, he scoffed and said, “I am insulted that you believe me to be as craven and cowardly as my half-brother. Bittersteel I am not, ser, and you would do well to remember that.” Before Ser Duncan could attempt to make any kind of reply, the man who had served as Hand to two successive kings turned to Maester Aemon and declared, “Like my great-nephew here, I am wholly prepared to begin my new life as a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch, forsaking all others.”
“Do you think he is sincere, Maester?” Ser Duncan asked, after Bloodraven had left their company.
Maester Aemon pondered the question, and the man who had been at the heart of numerous rumors, conjectures, speculations and suppositions for many years. “I cannot judge his sincerity,” the maester replied, “but my great-uncle is certainly right about one thing. If he had really wished to escape, he could have done so with ease before we sailed, and there would be very little any of us could do to prevent it.”
Ser Duncan nodded. “Aye, that is true enough. Lord Bloodraven is a very clever man. I have had occasions in the past to witness his cleverness – or his cunning and conniving, some might call it – with my own eyes. But he did not employ any of his talents to escape arrest for the murder of Aenys Blackfyre. I could vouch for that myself. I was one of the knights sent by the king to arrest him. He was waiting for us in his solar in the Tower of the Hand, completely alone, having sent away all of his personal guards, looking as unperturbed as if we were there to escort him to a council meeting.”
“We will both be starting a new life at the Wall, my great-uncle and I. He is not a man too fond of looking back at the irretrievable past, I would wager.”
“But unlike your great-uncle, Maester, you are not a prisoner bound to serve in the Night’s Watch in exchange for your life. Are you quite certain that this is where you should be?”
“I am certain, Ser Duncan. As certain as I have ever been in my life. And this is where we must part, ser.”
“I could escort you all the way to Castle Black.”
Maester Aemon shook his head, firmly. “You must not delay in returning to King’s Landing. Egg –“
He halted. No, he must not think of his brother as Egg any longer, he reminded himself. It takes a man to rule, not a boy. An Aegon, not an Egg, Maester Aemon had told his brother, when they bade farewell in King’s Landing. And never forget our father’s reminder, Your Grace.
(What truly defined a man, King Maekar had told his sons, was his ability – and willingness – to grow with the role entrusted upon him, no matter how unexpected his ascendency to that role might be, and how unworthy or unprepared he considered himself to be for the role.)
“My brother Aegon would have need of your service, Ser Duncan,” Maester Aemon continued.
“I am one of seven. His Grace has six other Kingsguard knights by his side. My temporary absence would not be sorely missed, I’m sure.”
“Oh, but you are much, much more than just his guard, ser. You were his teacher, his tutor and his counsellor during the formative years of his boyhood, and now –“
Ser Duncan laughed. “You speak as if I had been your brother’s maester, Maester. I was not such a great influence on him as you might think.”
“I never served as a squire myself, but my father and my brother both assured me that for a squire, the knight he serves is as important as any maester who teaches him the letters. And you are my brother’s true friend, Ser Duncan. True friendship is hard to come by, for a king especially.”
“You have always been the brother he loves and cherishes the most. It grieves him still, that you would not stay by his side to help him rule. He does not understand it, even now.”
“But you do, do you not, Ser Duncan? You understand my reason well enough.”
Ser Duncan sighed. “I do, sadly enough. Unscrupulous men would seek to use your presence in court unscrupulously. If the king does something that is not to their liking, they would whisper, ‘Prince Aemon would have made a better king, a very different kind of king. And Prince Aemon has the better claim, being the late King Maekar’s third son, not the fourth. He could still be released from his vows as a maester, as the High Septon once offered to do. We do not have to suffer this unlikely king for much longer.’”
“Some of them will not satisfy themselves with mere whispering. They may try to mount a rebellion in my name, even without my consent and my approval. I do not wish to be a constant thorn by my brother’s side. I do not wish to be the dark shadow looming over his reign.”
“Your brother knows very well that you would never do anything to encourage these unscrupulous figures, Maester.”
“They do not need my encouragement, merely my presence.”
“They will say it nonetheless, that you would have made a better king than your brother, even without your presence in court, even with you being at the Wall. Even … even if you were dead and gone. They said it about –“
“About my father. Yes, I know. My father presided over one of the most peaceful times in the realm’s history. He forged that peace with his tireless and persistent hard work and hard choices during his reign, yet too many people still pontificated that if he had not slain my uncle Baelor with his mace, the realm would not have been in such a catastrophic and appalling state under King Maekar’s rule. But at least the dead could not be used as a figurehead in a rebellion. The living could. That is why I must remove myself as far away from court as possible.”
“Some men are like cows, Ser Arlan used to say. They always believe that the grass is always greener on the other side of the field.”
His expression softening, Maester Aemon said, with a smile, “The first time we met, Ser Duncan, I measured your height to be an inch shy of seven feet. You told me that Ser Arlan of Pennytree, the knight you served until his death, said that growing was the thing you did best.”
“Ahhh, but you have misremembered our conversation, Maester,” replied Ser Duncan, his eyes twinkling.
“Have I?”
“I told you that Ser Arlan said that growing was the one thing I did really well. Unlike all the other things I did not do so well, I had always assumed he meant to imply. But you said Ser Arlan could have meant something different, that growing was the thing I did well the most. You were a very kind and thoughtful boy, Maester, and you have grown into a very kind and thoughtful man.”
Maester Aemon’s face turned as red as a pomegranate. “I do not deserve such a high praise, Ser Duncan.”
Noticing the maester’s discomfort, Ser Duncan quickly turned the conversation in a different direction. He chuckled and said, “Alas, my days for growing are finished, I fear. I will not grow an inch more, or even half an inch more.”
“Your days for growing taller are finished, certainly. But not your days for growing in other ways.”
“I pray that you are right, Maester.”
“My brother too will need to grow in his role as king, and he will need your counsel. You have my brother’s ear, Ser Duncan, and that is –“
“A great responsibility.”
“I have faith that you are more than equal to the task, ser,” Maester Aemon whispered in Ser Duncan’s ear, as they embraced.