Riding North

Caeron followed easily behind then on his pony, and Edword was looking back every few seconds to gauge his progress. "I have no idea why she would do that, I'm afraid. It doesn't matter, you've learned a valuable lesson." Where was his sister anyhow? Probably being distracted by Aerion somewhere. He tried not to lose his breakfast over the side of the horse as he recovered from that thought.

"You learned that you can survive pain." He thought it was an important lesson at any rate. "Ah, and if I give you a pony too then who will ride with Kyra and all of her dolls?"

The pony slowed from a gallop next to Edword and Lyra, with Caeron smiling proudly. "How am I doing?"

"We've got a long way to go. But, you are doing perfectly. Help me look for your mother. Or your father."

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Alistair rode ahead of the convoy until they were almost out of sight, continuing to quiz his squire along the way.

"All right, let's see your form," he said. "Make a run down the path and back. When you get back you can tell me how you would conquer Dorne should the situation arise." Alistair gave Viserys a rare smile. "And no using dragons."

Jousting was something in which Aerion had never trained him. He'd been too small, then. So he was self-conscious about attempting with no instruction, but he knew how to ride a horse (albeit not as well as he knew how to ride a dragon). So he held the lance in a manner akin to the way he'd seen jousting knights hold their weapons, and he galloped his stallion down the path at a steady lope, then turned sharply to return, skidding as he lifted his lance skyward and met Ser Alistair.

"I would order the Tully's and the Lannister's to make for Starfall via the Prince's Pass, while I sent a three pronged attack on Sunspear by Sea. Ships out of Oldtown, Storm's End and Dragonstone would strike a Sunspear whose resources would be depleted from sending aid Westward." He paused, "Why can't I use dragons?"

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Alistair watched as Viserys ran up the path. His form was surprisingly good for someone who had only watched a joust and his horesmanship was exceptional. This might not take the rest of my life, Alistair thought. Still, the boy was clumsy and untrained. There was much to be done.

"Tuck the base of your lance into your armpit," he yelled. "Aim with your elbow and keep point level. You can come up and under later."

Alistair waited for Viserys to return, listening to his dissertation along the way. "Anyone can win a battle with three dragons," Alistair said. "The point was to see what you knew about strategy, not how willing you are to raze the countryside. Now, come over here."

Alistair reached out to Viserys, adjusting the boy's arms. "Hold your lance right here," he said. "It won't feel natural for a while but if you want to stay ahorse when you hit your opponent you need the bracing. Keep your shield up across your chest," he said, moving Viserys's empty left arm into position. "Your shield is a door. Never open it for the enemy. Now, do it again and ponder this while you ride: Minas Baratheon, Brandon Stark and Delano Tyrell are at a feast with the king. What order are they served in?"

"Not anyone can win a battle with three dragons!" Viserys insisted, "Only a Targaryen." And he set his horse to loping back out, taking all of Ser Alistair's notes and applying them instantly. When he returned, he trotted up alongside the Captain of the Kingsguard.

"First, Minas Baratheon would be served for he bears the blood of the dragon, and my aunt is a wife to his son. Second, Lord Stark would be served for his line were kings once, and in respect for that position did Aegon afford his family Wardenship of the North. Delano Tyrell would not be served at all, because he is dead and has been for the past six years. Next?"

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A young man watches intently at the back and forth between Alistair and Viserys. The young man looks to be no older then fourteen dressed in riding leathers with a hand axe at his side. His face is dirty and his hair looked to be a chestnut brown if it was cleaned. His presence is barley noticed until Alistair realizes how close he has actually come to Viserys, unacceptably close for someone he does not know. “How does one hold a shield and their reins at the same time while maintaining speed?”

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"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death.... I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness."

Viserys cocked his head toward the stranger.

"The shield is strapped to the inside forearm. The left." He replied, "The left hand curls under, maintaining a grip on the reins. Speed is established at the outset, and once it is set the focus turns to defense, then attack."

Viserys circled the young man.

"Now that I've answered your question, might I ask who posed it?"

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The rider straightens his back as he seems to realize who he is talking to.

“I apologize for not introducing myself on the onset, my name is Alan Rivers. I am on my way to castle black to take my vows. I know nothing of jousting. I was not what we would call formally trained. If it is no imposition I would like to observe.”

The smile comes instinctively to Alan’s face which on closer inspection is very handsome.

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"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death.... I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness."

Viserys shrugged, and looked to Alistair.

"I don't mind if he doesn't..."

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