Chapter 18:

Learning His Place

Game of Thrones: Stormforged Knight


"I heard what happened yesterday. You did well. You did not shame House Tyrell." Garlan stood with his head slightly raised while servants arranged his clothing. He spoke to Alden, who stood nearby. "Bitterbridge lies in the middle stretch of the Roseroad and guards its most important bridge. It is one of the Reach's key positions. Every lord of Highgarden has valued the lord of Bitterbridge." He turned toward Alden, his expression extremely serious. "I need you to meet Lord Caswell shortly and apologize for yesterday's conduct with the most sincere attitude you can show. Bear-Hunter, do you understand?"

"As you command, Lord Garlan." Alden showed no dissatisfaction. His expression remained calm, as if the apology did not trouble him at all.

"Good. You may go." Garlan nodded, then seemed to remember something and added, "Change your clothes before you go."

Alden nodded and left Garlan's room. He did not return immediately to change and go to Bitterbridge Castle. Instead, as usual, he went to the stables, led out Vortimer's warhorse, brushed it, fitted bridle and saddle, then went to Vortimer's room to help arrange his armor.

"The strap on this vambrace needs replacing," Vortimer said while tightening it and noticing how badly the leather had worn. "When we make camp tonight, take it to the leatherworker and have him put on a new one."

"Yes, my lord." Alden nodded while tightening the straps on Vortimer's back so the plate sat close to his body.

"Enough. Leave the rest to the others." Vortimer signaled that the armor was tight enough, then turned to Alden with a serious look. "What you must do now is go to the castle and apologize. You should not have acted against Lorent Caswell yesterday. He will surely be the future lord of Bitterbridge, and you are only a squire. You are fortunate to belong to House Tyrell. Otherwise, with that old Caswell's temper and his concern for his only heir, he would likely have sent men hunting you by now."

Alden did not answer. He placed the armor-cleaning tools on the table, bowed, and withdrew.

After he left, the servant attending Vortimer spoke. "That boy was born a hunter after all. He does not know the weight of matters. Fortunately Lord Garlan restrained him, otherwise..."

The servant stopped halfway, because Vortimer had turned a cold look on him.

"He is my squire," Vortimer said. "In the future, he may become a knight. You should call him lord, or Lord Alden, not that boy."

"I understand, Lord Vortimer." The servant lowered his head at once and answered in fear.

While Vortimer was rebuking the servant, Alden had already returned to his room, changed into the formal clothing House Tyrell had prepared for him, and gone straight toward Bitterbridge Castle.

Bitterbridge Castle was built by the river. Its walls connected to the bridgehead, making the castle and the stone arch bridge across the water into a single whole.

The night before, when Maester Holley taught Westerosi history, he had spoken specifically of Bitterbridge's past, especially the origin of its name.

Although the massacre from those years lay more than two centuries in the past, it still deeply affected the place. It was said that those who lived there often heard the screams from the slaughter, and some even saw the ghosts of the dead endlessly reenacting that bloodshed.

Because of those ghost stories, Bitterbridge Castle felt cold and bleak. The local smallfolk, frightened by the tales, did not build houses near it. Instead, they chose a settlement farther away from the walls.

That left a broad open space around the castle, with nothing to obstruct the view from the battlements.

In Alden's opinion, those ghost stories might have been deliberately spread by generations of Caswell lords. The purpose would be to keep the ground around Bitterbridge clear, leaving no cover for a surprise attack.

A military stronghold like Bitterbridge Castle was taken seriously not only by House Caswell, which constantly repaired and reinforced it, but also by House Tyrell of Highgarden, Warden of the South. Whenever House Caswell needed materials to strengthen the castle, the Tyrells provided support. After years of such reinforcement, Bitterbridge was less a comfortable castle for living than a pure military fortress. Taking it from outside would be very difficult. One would have to begin from within.

These thoughts all surfaced in Alden's mind after he entered the castle and looked around.

He found the thoughts almost laughable. He did not command a single soldier and had no foundation of his own, yet he was thinking about how to seize a castle. It was not only his natural habit of letting his mind wander. It was also the influence of Peacekeeper's memories.

Through this period of constant training with the Tyrell guards, Peacekeeper's gauge had climbed to nearly three-quarters full. Alden felt it might fill completely before they reached King's Landing. When it did, he might be able to awaken another hero template from For Honor.

The gauge's progress did not merely represent accumulated experience. It also represented how deeply the character's experience and memories had fused with him. As that fusion advanced, even though Alden had noticed the influence and taken steps against it, he was still inevitably affected. Now, when he saw a castle, he thought of how to take it. When he saw a man with a weapon, he thought of how to kill him quickly.

Fortunately, the influence remained within a range Alden could accept and control. Otherwise, if it continued for too long, he could not be certain his personality would not be twisted completely.

Still, it made him worry. If another For Honor hero awakened, would that influence deepen?

Amid those wandering thoughts, Alden arrived in the castle hall. Lord Almon Caswell sat in the chair at its center, with several smallfolk below him. From the look of it, he was handling matters of his domain.

Lord Caswell's hair had gone fully white, and he looked somewhat frail, but the strength of his frame made it easy to see that in his youth he had been a formidable warrior.

When Alden entered, a maester standing beside Almon leaned close to his lord and whispered a few words, apparently introducing Alden.

"I will rest for a while. Return later with the remaining matters." Almon raised a hand to stop the smallfolk's report, dismissed the irrelevant people from the hall, and beckoned Alden forward.

Alden approached, bowed to Almon, and then, following the etiquette Vortimer had taught him over the past month, apologized for his conduct the night before with great care and solemnity. He asked Lord Caswell for forgiveness.

"Alden the Bear-Hunter. I have heard the songs about you. It is plain enough that you are a fortunate fellow, blessed with a healthy body, while my child cannot even lift a sword." Almon measured Alden with his gaze, the authority built by years of lordship pressing down on him. "You were my guest. As host, I offered you food and a safe place to rest, yet you harmed my child. If I followed my own desire, I would have you seized and chopped into mincemeat. But you are Ser Vortimer's squire, and my friendship with Ser Vortimer is good. Harming you would strain that friendship. Yet I cannot let you go so easily either. If I did, my authority would suffer, and men would no longer fear me as they should."

As he spoke, Almon stood and walked toward a side door, signaling Alden to follow.

They soon left the hall, crossed a corridor, and came to an open space beside the castle.

Two people had been tied by the hands to the hitching posts there, backs exposed. Because the posts were low, they could only kneel on the ground.

Alden's brow tightened slightly when he saw them. He recognized one as Rowly, the young man who had asked him for instruction the night before. The other was an old man with white hair. Alden had never met him, but in the present situation it was easy to guess that he was Rowly's father, Almon's weaponsmith.

Almon Caswell stopped a short distance behind the two men, raised a hand to the executioner, and took the whip from him. Then he offered it to Alden. "I asked about the cause of the matter. If this fellow had not gone to you to test his swordwork, none of this would have happened. Therefore he must be punished. His father failed to teach his child proper respect for station and must be punished as well. As for the man to carry out the sentence, I think the Bear-Hunter is suitable."

Alden looked calmly at the whip held before him and took it.

"Begin. Strike until I am satisfied." Almon walked aside, motioned for a servant to kneel on all fours, and sat on the man's back.

Alden said nothing. He went behind Rowly and his father and swung the whip down across their backs.

It was his first time using a whip, but Peacekeeper's memories included skill with one, and he used that knowledge now.

Because he was unfamiliar with it at first, the first dozen lashes varied in strength and caused the father and son heavier injuries. Once he gradually grew used to the weapon, however, the situation changed.

The lashes that fell on them looked terrible. Each left a deep mark, and some tore flesh open, but the wounds only appeared severe. In truth, they were shallow injuries that would heal easily. After Alden mastered the whip's use, he struck in a way that knocked both men unconscious, sparing them the pain of the later lashes while making them look miserable enough.

"Enough." Not long after Rowly and his father had fainted, Almon called a stop. "If I let you go on, I will have to find myself another weaponsmith."

With that, he rose and returned to his council hall.

Alden gave the whip back to the executioner and looked at Rowly and his father. He did not go forward to untie them. He turned and left, because he understood very well that if he showed even the slightest concern, their lives in Bitterbridge Castle afterward would become far harder.

The matter had been resolved smoothly, but Alden's mood was poor. More than ever, he wanted a noble title of his own. Otherwise, things like this would happen again and again. No matter how superb his swordsmanship became, in the eyes of nobles he would remain nothing but a powerful hired blade.

"Has the matter been settled?" Vortimer called him over after he returned to camp and asked.

Alden nodded and described what had happened.

"Do you feel stifled?" Vortimer asked after hearing him.

"A little," Alden answered truthfully.

Vortimer nodded. Then he spoke with the gravity of someone giving hard advice. "You have ambition and ability. You will likely achieve no small things in the future. But before your wings are grown, you had best draw in those ambitions and ideas. Do not let others see them. I do not want something like today to happen again. Do you understand?"

"I understand, my lord," Alden replied.

"Treat today as a lesson. You must remember your current station clearly. Once you forget it, you will do things that do not suit that station. Some such actions may cause no trouble. Others can be fatal." Vortimer continued, "If Lord Caswell had chosen to make the matter larger, he could have declared that we violated guest right: after eating the host's food, we harmed the host's heir. If that happened, even Lord Garlan would be implicated. As for you, House Tyrell would hand you over without hesitation to calm Lord Caswell's anger."

Alden said nothing, but his expression turned solemn because of Vortimer's words.

"You possess superb swordsmanship and a bright future, but that is only the future. For a long time yet, you will be nothing more than my squire. In the eyes of great men, you are no different from the other soldiers. You became my squire at the very beginning, and your own ability created certain illusions in you. Now I need to correct those illusions." Vortimer pointed to the clothing of a Tyrell guardsman lying on the table. "For now, you need not serve me. You need not do the tasks I have given you. You will stay with the scouts as an ordinary soldier. When you earn military merit, you may return as my squire."

"Yes, my lord." Alden did not defend himself or plead. He accepted the order calmly.

His calm reaction surprised Vortimer instead. The knight studied him, as if trying to decide whether Alden truly understood his meaning or was merely acting out of wounded pride. But Alden's face remained steady, revealing nothing. Vortimer could only wave him away and decide to watch him quietly over the next few days, to see whether he had truly recognized his mistake.

The Tyrell guards were surprised to hear that Alden had joined the scout party. Some gloated, while others felt regret, but whatever they thought, the news startled them. The scouts themselves were delighted. Having a man as strong as Alden join them would make the road ahead much safer.

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