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“That can’t possibly be true!” Jon said with clear shock on his face and astonishment in his voice.
“Well, there are truths and then there are truths. But according to record, the only person to have witnessed Duncan the Tall being knighted was the knight he squired for, Ser Arlan of Pennytree. Who supposedly knighted Duncan before dying of a chill.” Sarella Sand said with confidence.
Jon and Ser Kyle, after winning at the Prince’s Pass, had decided to venture deeper into Dorne. The sand steed he’d won from House Fowler made the trip a luxury. It also made him feel that much closer to becoming a knight himself.
Traveling through the desert had been an adventure, then they’d gone down the Scourge River, Greenblood, past Planky Town, and finally Sunspear.
Mountains, deserts, rivers, Jon had found Dorne beautiful. More beautiful than he’d been led to belief.
“Many a knight only had for witness the knight himself to tell the tale.” Jon argued.
“Yes, except Ser Arlan wasn’t around to tell anyone. We only have Ser Duncan’s word of ever having been knighted at all.” She countered.
The young squire hadn’t expected a warm welcome, though the more time he spent in Dorne the less shocked he was at being treated as simply a squire. And at no point being looked down for being a bastard on top of that.
Late one night Jon had gotten bored, and curious, and decided to check out their library. Which is where he’d crashed headfirst into one the Prince Oberyn’s famous daughters, the Sand Snakes.
Jon had introduced himself hesitantly after walking headfirst into the older girl, and somehow struck up a conversation by candlelight. And for the last four days had been meeting up in the library to discuss any number of topics. Jon was simply happy to have someone to talk too. Though he couldn’t imagine what Sarella got out of it.
“That doesn’t mean he lied,” Jon stressed, “Ser Arlan died. If only two people know of something, and one died, then only one knows of it then. That doesn’t make is some sort of conspiracy.”
“I never said he did so out of malice. Duncan the Tall did squire for Ser Arlan, there is record of a bastard knight by that name from the Vale. House Hersy’s sigil was a white chalice on pink, while Ser Arlan’s own arms displayed a silver chalice on brown. As you and I both know, bastards tend to reverse the colors of their parent House or change some aspect. So, the documentation of Ser Arlan is a clear. But the question stands, did Ser Arlan knight Duncan the Tall before dying?”
“There’s no proof he didn’t.” The dark-haired young boy argued vigorously.
“Ah, but there’s no proof he did either.” She said with a smile. This sort of intellectual debate was something she’d feared going without and had not expected to find it in a snooping northern boy.
Few would dare insult a child of Prince Oberyn, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t talk over or ignore a girls opinion. Dorne might be one of the more forward-thinking kingdoms in Westeros, but that hadn’t changed everyone’s mind. Nor that girls could have a mind of their own.
“And if he hadn’t? What could Duncan the Tall have done about it? A penniless boy from Flea Bottom, his only means inherited by Ser Arlan’s passing. No one was like to take on a squire at his age.” Authorities were just as likely to hang the young man for theft of horse and arms, as well murder if they decided a chill wasn’t a good enough culprit. Or if they simply wished to hang someone that day.
Jon, seeing the path he’d been lead, could only nod. But as all she’d laid down couldn’t be rebutted to defend his position, nor could it for hers.
“Then neither you nor I can say one way or another. Ser Duncan could have been knighted or made it up. There is no living person left who can say for sure.”
Smiling, she nodded.
The pair sat across from one another in one of Sunspear’s long tables, a candle burning between them.
“That is true. But you’re forgetting one thing.” She went in for the kill.
“And what’s that?”
“The tourney of Ashford Meadow.”
Frowning, Jon thought over his history lessons. Recalling that was where prince Baelor would fall by his brother’s own hand in a trial of seven. Ser Duncan had come to the defense of small folk who were being abused by Prince Aerion, another Targaryen prince of the time. He’d struck the prince and kicked him as well.
So, by law he should lose a hand & foot.
“Ser Duncan rode against Prince Maekar, the Anvil, in a trial of seven. For Prince Maekar’s side, he had his two sons, Prince’s Aerion & Daeron, three Kings Guard Knights, and Ser Steffon Fossoway. For Ser Duncan’s side, he had Prince Baelor, Ser Robyn Rhysling, Ser Humfrey Hardyng, Lord Lyonel Baratheon, Ser Humfrey Beesbury, and Raymun Fossoway.”
Jon often debated with his brother Robb such battles, how could they have done things differently, where their different knights & lords at the time they could have called upon instead? It one was of their favorite games.
“Other then the death of Prince Baelor, this was when the red apple Fossoways & the green apple Fossoways would split into two different houses. But I don’t see how any of this proves Ser Duncan wasn’t a knight.”
“Ah, but you’re on the right track.” Smug now, she continued to draw him in.
“How did the Fossoway House split?”
Frowning, Jon still didn’t see the trap. And at this point, and over the last few nights, he’d come to expect a trap somewhere. “Ser Steffon Fossoway promised to come to Ser Duncan’s aid in the trail, and that he’d find others to join them. But he lied, instead joining Maekar’s side. His squire on the other hand, Ser Raymun, would stay true and fight for Ser Duncan. And others decided on their own to take up arms for Ser Duncan. Including Prince Baelor.”
“As Raymun couldn’t join the trial as a squire, he was knighted before the battle. And not to be confused for his cousin, would paint his red apple green instead, claiming it was better to not yet be ripe instead of being wormy.”
“Who knighted Ser Raymun?” She was ready to strike.
“Lord Lyonel.”
“Why?” Almost there.
“ –what do you mean, why? A squire can’t fight in a trial of seven. It must be seven knights on each side.” Another reason she enjoyed these debates so much, it was a joy to watch Jon think these things through for his own.
“Oh, I know. I’ve seen a trial of seven before, at Lemonwood. That’s not my question. My question is – why was it Lord Lyonel that knighted Raymun Fossoway?”
“I don’t understand. What does it matter who knighted Ser Raymun?”
“Ser Raymun came to Duncan the Tall’s aid, did he not? And he requested to be knighted by Duncan as well. The histories are clear on that. So why did it fall to Lord Lyonel to knight him instead?” So close now.
Recalling everything he could from his lessons, Jon still couldn’t see where she was going with this. “I don’t know. Maybe Ser Duncan was busy.”
“Doing what? They were all about to fight in the trial. Why was Duncan too busy but Lord Lyonel able to knight the young squire?”
Jon could feel an itch in the back of his scalp, somehow, he knew he’d been had, and walked exactly where she wanted him too. “Maybe – maybe he couldn’t.”
Victory was right there, just one more push.
“Why couldn’t he, Jon?”
“—he didn’t know how.”
“Exactly,” she crowed. “There are words, an oath you must swear, do you know them?”
“No, I’ve never been knighted or watched someone be knighted.” Jon saw exactly what she’d been laying out for him and felt the fool. But it felt more like when Robb beat him at jousting, there wasn’t any ill intentions. They were just having fun.
“Duncan the Tall had never seen someone knighted before, when would he have? He was a squire for a hedge knight. But as someone who’d supposedly been knighted, he should have known the words. Or some version of them. But he didn’t.”
Sighing, he admitted defeat, “because he’d never seen knighted.”
Grinning, by candlelight her dark eyes almost glowed. Jon had heard that while all the Sand Snakes looked different from one another, they all shared their father’s viper eyes. He could belief it, looking into those bright black eyes.
“You’re so much more pleasant when you’re agreeing with me.” She teased him.
“And you’re smug either way.”
“Smug? No. I like to think of it as being filled with victory.”
“Oh, your filled with something.” He shot back with a grin.
“Oh, you think this is smug? Wait till I tell you my theory on how Duncan the Tall was one of Aegon the Unworthy’s bastards.”
"Nooo!"