Beric Darklyn filled his golden cup with wine, tasted it, smacked his lips. A bit sour, but fine, with interesting flowery notes.
Flower… The word reminded the Lord of Duskendale of something. Something not very pleasant.
«The little Rose has become the Hand, instead of older and more experienced men. After disobeying the Crown and nearly raising arms again the Iron Throne. Well, Aegon needed the lances and swords of the Reach, so it is understandable. And he has a smooth tongue, which is important during these times»
The Master of Laws frowned. His tall and muscled figure, in a doublet of black linen, stood like a shadow near the burning hearth.
Somebody knocked on the door, then a boy of twelve came in. He wore the red-and-golden colors of his house - and his wavy hair was golden as well. He bowed to the Lord of Duskendale and then looked at him questioningly with his navy blue eyes.
- You called for me, Father? - he asked respectively.
- Yes, Mathis, I wanted to talk with you. We do not spend much time together, do we? – Lord Beric laughed harshly. Then he gazed for his son for a few minutes, before continuing
– Tell me, whom would you preferred to be – an honorable man or a strong man?
- Father? – the unexpected question made Mathis open his mouth a little. Surprised, he scratched his forehead.
- Look at this portrait. And then at this one - Lord Beric said grimly - and opened a book. A big one, its cover of deerskin richly decorated with yellow opals. It was The Princess and The Queen, or, The Blacks and The Greens, written by Archmaester Gyldayon many years ago.
The first portrait depicted a slim knight with a sad face and a crooked nose. In a cloak of red silk and holding a goblet in his hand, he was as If contemplating something.
- It is our ancestor, Lord Jonn Darklyn. He acted during the Dance of Dragons. You have probably heard about the event? – the Master of Laws smiled, looking at the lad with expectation.
- Of course, Father, it was an internal war, when Aegon II and Rhaenyra fought for the Crown… - Mathis remembered the lessons of his maesters
– Say, Father, why did our house support Rhaenyra then? Isnt it a rule that a son always inherits over the daughter…
- You did not study well enough, Mathis, I am ashamed of you – the voice of Darklyn was now full of iron –
This convention was established long after, at a great council. At the moment it was only an Andal tradition that was not followed very well even among themselves – if we remember, Eyrie was ruled by a woman at the time…
- Understood, father… - Mathis wanted to redeem himself quickly
– And was not Rhaenyra considered a legitimate heir at the time of the death of King Jaeherys?
- Totally. She was the eldest, the King has himself named her as his successor, the Princess of Dragonstone, refusing to change that even after demands of his second wife – and he had many lords of the realm to pledge her their loyalty some years ago – Beric Darklyn shook his head and his lips curled
– So the grounds of Aegon II were very… shaky at moment, while they would have been quite legitimate fifty years after. He did not even want to take the Throne at first, understanding that. But his ambitious relatives pushed him into action…. And, as you remember, the war was finally won by us, since it was the son of Rhaenyra that was crowned and her descendants rule us now…
- And our ancestor…? – the boy was now breathless.
- Ah, Lord Jonn Darklyn. He was a honorable man, if there is one. He stayed staunchly loyal to the blacks and Rhaenyra, even despite the dangerous closeness of the Kings Landing, where Aegon was sitting. But, sadly, he was not strong or clever enough –and could not defend his principles with sword and words. His castle was stormed and taken, he himself and many of his supporters killed…. – Beric gulped some more wine, then wiped his hazelnut beard with a large handkerchief.
Then he demonstrated another picture to the boy. It was a tall handsome man in the white cloak of the Royal Guard, with aquiline features and daring green eyes.
- Ser Criston Cole. Was he a honorable man? No. He was a bastard, who tried to seduce Princess Rhaenyra and, when she refused him, became her enemy. He was a murderer who treacherously killed Lord Beesbury, a man of eighty years, a Master of Coin who served three Kings, during the session of the Council – because he did not want to take part in the plot and refuse Rhyaenyra her birthrights. He was the curse because of whose ambitions the whole bloody war that took thousands of lifes of both noblemen and small folk.
But at the same time – he was a strong man, a conqueror, a true warrior. He was the master of his fate, not the fate was the master of him. He always achieved his aims, he defeated his enemies, castles and town fells before him. And therefore he was of more use to his lord, King Aegon II, than our unhappy relative to his.
So, once again, Mathis – whom would you prefer to be, a honorable man or a strong man?
The heir to Duskendale stopped breathing. It became so silent in the room that the buzzing of several flies was heard. The boy took a gulp, then looked at his father. His gaze was serious now.
- My lord, while we can be strong or not, the obligation to act honorably is given to us by Gods…. But I would prefer to be both!
The Lord of Duskendale patted his son on the head and nodded in agreement with him
- Correct, my son. You should choose the path of honor, duty and loyalty to your King and gods, like you ancestors – and at the same time make your minds as sharp as sword and your sword as sharp as the Valyrian steel. For otherwise, while you would have good intentions, you would not be able to make them bear fruit. Not go with the Seven, for I need to prepare for the Tully trial….