Myles Mooton

The morning sea was calm, the sky was clear, and the sun warmed his skin. It amazed Myles that nature was so calm and unbothered while the realm of men plunged into chaos. The seagulls and the fish were playing their games as hunters and hunted as if this were any other day, for them it was, not one day passed in which they weren’t being hunted or hunting, to feed themselves, and to escape becoming food. For Myles it was rather different, he was used to food being on the table, to the certainty that tomorrow would be as safe as yesterday. He took in all he could see; he knew he may never see the shores of Dragonstone again, nor any other shores. He wasn’t as used as the beasts to the idea of death, to the breath of the Stranger on one’s own neck.

The cheers of the smallfolk took Myles from his musings, the ship had just left port and he could see the smallfolk waiving from the coast, many were probably families of the men he had just taken with him, he imagined there were many a woman praying for the safe return of their husband, children and brothers. Lewyn hadn’t been one of those men. The knight and Myles had had a nasty discussion the day before, Lewyn was fuming, demanding an explanation Myles simply didn’t have. When pressed the White Cloack declared he wouldn’t leave Elia’s side unless directly commanded by the king.

It didn’t matter, there were many skilled knights in the army Jon Connington was gathering. The King had chosen the right man to be his Hand, Myles thought. Young lords, loyal and eager for battle, that was what the realm needed in this time of war. A few days after Jon’s appointment word reached King’s Landing that Lord Tyrell had delivered a crushing defeat to the rebel forces and was now on his way to besiege Storm’s End. A good omen for the young Hand. Connington and his army would begin marching in less than a week, more than enough time for Myles to join him. He expected to arrive at King’s Landing in three days.

Once they joined the army and departed, Jon would take the army to the Riverlands, where Robert Baratheon was retreating to. Once they reached him, they would crush him in the field of battle and cut one of the heads of the rebellion. His troops were exhausted from weeks of fighting and more than a month of retreating through hostile territory.

As the cog moved away from the island, the distinct scent of Dragonstone faded and was replaced by the more tolerable smell of the sea. His squires stood by his side, one to each side, Lucius leaned on the rail of the ship and silently watched the smallfolk, Ben waved back at them, a big smile plastered on his face. His squires had joined him without hesitation. Ben was elated with the opportunity to prove his worth in battle. Lucius on the other hand seemed impassive since he had been informed that they would be accompanying Myles to war, the squire remained playful and mischievous, but with tinges of sadness in his mood.

“Have you ever fought in a battle, Ser Myles?” Ben's sudden question startled the knight out of his musings. “I can’t say I have, no,” Myles answered after a moment. “Are you afraid?” Ben’s expression became more serious as he asked. Myles reached upwards and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I’m not entirely unafraid, but I’m steadfast in my duty as a sworn knight of Prince Rhaegar. Fear is unavoidable, but it is the responsibility of knights to conquer it, to battle for justice and truth even at the cost of their own lives. Those are the ideals we must live up to.” Myles gave Ben a reassuring smile, the kid nodded and seemed to relax.

“I’ll be side by side with you Ben. Battles are a gruesome business, but we will stick together, whatever happens.” Lucius lightly punched Ben on the shoulder reassuringly. “You just want to use me to block the arrows!” Ben whined. “I only ever said that because you were being overly annoying, I didn’t actually mean it.” Lucius' mouth formed a wry smile. “Or did I? You must admit you would make a good shield.” Lucius jokingly stroked his chin as if seriously considering it. Ben punched Lucius on his shoulder, more a push with his fist than a punch, but he sent Lucius stumbling to the ground. Ben laughed and the mood lightened, Myles saw a subtle smile on Lucius’ face before he got up.

The men of Dragonstone who had come with him seemed uneasy. The thought of war did that to men with half a wit. The thought of blood and dirt, of men dying in front and beside you, of horses trampling friend and foe alike, and of arrows raining down on men did sound unappealing to those who took at least a minute to think about it. It would be weird for them to be calm, but it was their duty, they were sworn to Rhaegar the same as Myles.

The hours passed and the cog sailed silently through Blackwaters bay. His squires sat on the bow and whispered to each other, laughing every now and then. The men sat and lay on the deck, some slept, and others chatted among themselves. The sailors were the only men whose hands weren’t idle.

Myles thought long and hard, it’s not that he wasn’t prone to think things properly, although some would have you believe otherwise. But this time he thought longer and harder than he usually did. He didn’t quite see how they would get out of this one. The dornish were rightfully pissed at Rhaegar, half the realm spit on the Targaryen name and wanted nothing more than to rid the King of his head. So far, a few houses from the Riverlands, all the houses from the Crownlands, and the entire might of the Reach had declared for King Aerys, his House Mooton included amongst those thanks the Seven. Still, Myles wasn’t sure that was enough to put down the rebellion. Two entire Kingdoms had risen against them, the Vale and North, Robert Baratheon had also compelled most houses from the Stormlands to join his cause after the battles at Summerhall. But who knew, maybe crushing Robert’s army and capturing or slaying the rebel lord would be enough to sap the will to fight from the other rebels.