A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

You might not remember him, but...

Stay there. I'm coming back.

he was a true knight.

Different than other men. Yeah.

He had a peaceable nature.

Quiet and humble.

A veteran of a hundred wars, but an enemy to none.

He always knew what was expected of him.

He never complained.

Even as he was dying, he just...

He just got on with it.

He meant to be a benefit to those around him.

It did not make him rich.

He held no lands, sired no children.

Off to Ashford to see a fair maid

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho

I'll make her my love and we'll rest in the shade

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho

Come on, Dunk!

He wanted for nothing but the open air.

Hey.

And a fire to warm his feet at.

His skills as a warrior were

unsung, but he had a chin cut from granite.

- Come on. - And he was a dogged fighter.

He just, he kept on coming.

I'll steal a sweet kiss from the point of my blade

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho

Whoa! Whoa!

House Florent, Ser Arlan took service in your guard

when your lord father lost his sight.

I'll make her my love and we'll rest in the shade

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho

House Hayford,

Ser Arlan fought side by side with your brothers at the Redgrass.

His squire, his own nephew was killed in the battle.

House Tyrell...

Ser Arlan often spoke of his time in your service

as his very finest.

He said it was you, m'lord, who told him that a hedge knight

was the bridge between lords and the smallfolk.

I know him not, man.

Was he a shit knight?

He was not a shit knight.

Well, he can't have been a very good one if no one remembers him.

Pick up your feet, come on.

This is undignified, ser.

So, hie back to camp and leave me be, if it please you.

I would not leave you, ser,

not while you must suffer your master dying

over and over again.

Though it does not seem like these lords

are even listening to you.

Nothing I can do about that.

You are a knight of the realm, ser.

You can say fuck their permission.

Ride into the lists, call out Longthorn Tyrell,

and turn his arsehole into a lance-hole.

That's enough now.

Why do you treat these royal lapdogs like they're your betters?

They are my betters. You're too brazen for your own good.

Ser Arlan was a great knight.

Someone will remember him.

Hey. Who's come?

Can't you see the banners, you giant cunt?

Perhaps I should go back, ser, check on the camp.

Make sure no thieves have been nosing about.

Aye. I have an idea.

Can I have your sword to run people off with?

- Or a mace? - You have a knife.

That's enough.

You'd best be here when I come back.

Rob me, and I'll hunt you down, with dogs.

- You don't have dogs. - I'll get some.

Where?

Our Lord of Ashford humbly welcomes the great and honorable

Baelor Targaryen, firstborn son of King Daeron the Good.

Prince of Dragonstone, Hand of the King,

and heir to the Iron Throne.

And his brother, Maekar.

My Lord of Ashford.

It's a great honor to receive Your Grace.

It's a great honor to be received.

My daughter, Gwin.

Boy, stop gaping. See to my horse.

I'm not a stable boy, m'lord.

Not clever enough?

Well, if you can't manage horses,

then fetch me some wine and a pretty wench.

Oh, m'lord pardons. I'm no serving man, either.

I have the honor to be a knight.

Oh. Well

knighthood has fallen on sad days.

Whoa, whoa. Whoa, whoa.

- Move away! - Easy.

Easy now, come on.

Come on. Yeah, it's okay. It's okay.

There you are, girl.

Far too many people around.

I agree.

Where the fuck am I meant to put all these horses?

The pretty ones are always temperamental.

Ah, she just got a bit excited, that's all.

He meant the princeling, not the palfrey.

Excuse me, m'lords.

I'm Ser Duncan the Tall.

Well met. I'm Ser Roland Crakehall,

and this is my sworn brother, Ser Donnel of Duskendale.

Gods, boy.

Do you ride your horse into battle or does it ride you?

Forgive Ser Roland.

It's not often he must look up to cast his eyes down.

Yes, yes, I'm quite the rascal.

Now, tell me, Ser Duncan,

is there a proper place to shit around here?

Not really, no.

A man of such birth has never deigned to disturb his arsehole with hay.

He'll deign before the week is out, I'd wager.

Where are you from, man?

You don't smell House-bred.

- No place, really. - I know it.

My family's from there.

You're not a Darklyn of Duskendale?

We were crabbers at Duskendale.

Far back as it goes.

Ser Donnel?

May I ask, ser, how the son of a crabber

came to have the honor of being a knight in the Kingsguard?

Same way we became crabbers.

"Same way we became..."

Are you Baelor Targaryen?

No.

Then would you move the fuck out of the way?

Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Apologies.

Sorry.

The princes be needing their fucking hands washed!

I'm on my way, ma'am.

Move! A carriage is comin' through!

The spring rains have swollen many of our streams.

Perhaps the young princes have just been delayed?

Fuck me.

"Delayed." They're not delayed.

Do not curse our gracious host.

I said "fuck me," not "fuck him."

It's not his fault Father bade us attend this miserable circus.

Might we discuss this another time?

I say we go hunting.

Daeron has done this before.

You should not have commanded him to enter the lists.

The prince's sons are missing.

You'd be more concerned if it was your son, I wager.

- Oh. - Probably dead.

- Dead? - Wars have started for less.

You're big and stupid.

They have only been missing a day.

No doubt, Ser Roland will turn him up and Aegon along with him.

When the tourney is over, perhaps.

Daeron belongs on a tourney field

no more than Aerys or Rhaegel.

By which you mean he'd sooner ride a whore than a horse.

That is not what I said.

I do not need to be reminded of my son's failings.

He can change. He will change, gods be damned.

Or I swear, I'll see him dead.

You.

Who are you? What do you mean by spying on us?

Show yourself.

My Lords, I do apologize for my interruption. I...

I have asked Ser Manfred Dondarrion

to vouch for me so that I might enter the lists,

- but he has refused to do so. - Who?

What the fuck is going on?

We are the intruders here, brother. Come closer, ser.

And others, too.

You see, they say they know not Ser Arlan of Pennytree.

But he served them. I swear it.

I have his sword and shield.

Sword and shield do not make a knight.

Mm?

Unless you have better proof to support what you say.

- Some writing or... - Do you remember him, Your Grace?

It was many years ago.

You may have forgotten.

Ser Arlan of Pennytree.

He never won a tourney that I know.

But he never shamed himself, either.

Yes, ser.

I mean, no. No, he didn't.

He overthrew Lord Stokeworth in the melee at King's Landing

and years before, he unhorsed the Grey Lion himself.

He told me of that many a time.

Then, you will recall the Grey Lion's true name,

I have no doubt.

Ser Damon Lannister.

The Grey Lion, he's Lord of Casterly Rock now.

So he is.

And enters the lists upon the morrow.

How can you possibly remember some fucking hedge knight

who chanced to unhorse Damon Lannister 16 years ago?

I make it a practice to learn all I can of my foes.