Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

"Hello, Grand Maester Pycelle." Maester Hawley entered the room, led by his attendant. Upon noticing two people present, he hesitated briefly but quickly identified the older man with the elaborate maester chain as Grand Maester Pycelle and addressed him respectfully.

"I'm not doing so well," Pycelle replied with a faint smile.

Maester Hawley paused, unsure of how to respond.

"I've been struggling to document the death of Maegor Targaryen the First," Pycelle continued, smiling slightly. "I even prayed to the gods for assistance. But you, Maester Hawley, took your time, leisurely staying in the camp for two whole days before coming here. That, my dear Maester Hawley, has prolonged my suffering. Do you think I'm doing well now?"

The reproach in Pycelle's tone was unmistakable, even for someone as socially awkward as Maester Hawley. He began to sweat nervously, unsure how to justify the delay.

"Don't be anxious; I don't mean to blame you," Pycelle said, his words probing Hawley's character with practiced ease. Satisfied that Hawley posed no threat to his position, he continued, "Are you ready to begin? The chronicles have fallen far behind schedule. I'm hoping your help will speed up our progress so that, by next year, we'll have completed the compilation of major historical events before the 80th year of the Aegon calendar."

"At your service, Grand Maester," Hawley said eagerly, his passion for history ignited. Bowing deeply, he assured Pycelle he needed no further preparation and could start immediately. Then, remembering something, he added, "However, I have a companion waiting at the guard post outside the Red Keep. I may need to speak with him briefly to explain—"

"No need for that," Pycelle interjected, raising a hand to stop him. "If it's not a private matter, write it down and have it delivered. I don't want you wasting time on such trivialities in the future."

Pycelle gestured toward the other man in the room, who reacted with a startled expression that quickly turned into a mocking smile. It seemed to say, We'll see if I'll follow your orders, Grand Maester.

The room's dim lighting concealed the man's expression from Hawley, who obediently requested paper and hastily wrote a note. Pycelle took it, folded it without reading, and handed it to the man.

"The third cabinet by my bed should contain something to compensate you," Pycelle said, his tone betraying a hint of fear. "I trust this settles the matter. Do you agree?"

The man stood silent for a moment, then took the note and replied, "I hope your compensation is genuine. Otherwise, I'll return, and it won't be like this."

With that, he left the room. Pycelle exhaled softly, steadying himself on the nearby table to mask his unease in front of Hawley.

The man chose a secluded path out of the Red Keep, avoiding contact with anyone. Once outside, he took Hawley's note and casually tossed it into the weeds. After a few steps, he seemed to reconsider, retrieving the note before heading to the guard post.

At the post, he found the person he sought but froze momentarily before approaching. "Why is it you again?" he asked in a familiar tone.

Lynd, startled by the sudden appearance and question, quickly recognized the man. His unique demeanor made him unmistakable.

"Why are you here, Lord Bovo?" Lynd asked, curious about the Faceless Man now disguised as a Maester.

"Grand Maester Pycelle owes me a debt," Bovo replied curtly, handing Lynd the note. "This is from Maester Hawley. He asked me to deliver it to you."

Lynd took the note, reading its simple contents: Hawley was leaving books for him at the camp. After pocketing the note, he looked at Bovo. "How long will you stay in King's Landing?"

"If all goes as planned, we'll leave tonight," Bovo answered casually. He then regarded Lynd with a strange expression. "Don't you find it curious that we keep crossing paths? It's almost as if some unseen force is guiding us."

"It's not curious at all," Lynd replied coolly. "We've only met three times, and once you sought me out yourself. Coincidences like this aren't uncommon, so don't make it out to be something extraordinary."

Lynd's demeanor turned icy as he fixed his gaze on Bovo and said, "You're not trying to recruit me into the Faceless Men, are you?"

Shaking his head, Bovo replied, "Anyone in King's Landing might become a Faceless Man—but you? Definitely not."

Though the words seemed to absolve him, Lynd couldn't shake the uneasy feeling they left behind.

At this, Bovo looked at Lynd for a moment longer, his face full of confusion, and said, "What exactly happened to you in the few days since we met at Kingswood? Why do I feel that there's more..." As if something had suddenly occurred to him, his eyes grew sharp with scrutiny as he studied Lynd. Then, with an expression of sudden realization, he said, "I see. That's why the Many-Faced God had me carry out this boon. It turns out the Water Dancer was never the goal—you, Lynd the Bear Hunter, were."

Upon hearing Bovo's words, Lynd frowned, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword. "Lord Bovo," he said, his tone cool, "are you suggesting I should also enjoy some of the Many-Faced God's blessings?"

"No, not you," Bovo replied, utterly unbothered by Lynd's wary stance. Instead, he shook his head oddly and turned his attention to the Gold Cloaks, who had emerged from the guard post, curious about the commotion. "This is not the place to talk," he said.

With that, he gestured for Lynd to follow and began walking toward the main road, heading in the direction of Baelor Square.

Lynd hesitated momentarily before following, his guard firmly intact. To him, there was little difference between religious fanatics and lunatics—one moment, they were laughing and joking; the next, they could be drawing their swords for some inexplicable reason.

"Can you tell me about your experiences these past days?" Bovo asked after Lynd had caught up. Slowing his pace slightly, he added, "I want to know what it is about you that has attracted the Many-Faced God's attention."

"The Many-Faced God's attention?" Lynd paused mid-step, his expression turning grim.

He couldn't help but recall a discussion thread he'd once seen in a forum in his previous life. The topic was the deities in the world of Ice and Fire, and the consensus among participants was clear: apart from the man-made Faith of the Seven, none of the other gods were benevolent. Even R'hllor, the Lord of Light—who was often portrayed as the most righteous—was associated with disturbing rituals and sinister undertones. More importantly, in this world, many deities were undeniably real, and being noticed by them was rarely a good thing.

The Faceless Man seemed to read Lynd's thoughts and said, "Don't worry. For now, there's no chance the Many-Faced God will bestow blessings on you. By the time you're qualified to be on his list, no Faceless Men will even be able to get close to you—not with your abilities at that level. You have nothing to fear."

Lynd thought about it and found himself agreeing. At his current rate of growth, if he ever became renowned enough to warrant a contract from the Faceless Men, his strength and perceptive abilities would likely have reached extraordinary levels. By then, an assassin would pose little threat to him.

With this realization, Lynd relaxed slightly and then asked, in a tone tinged with negotiation, "I can tell you about my experiences, but what's in it for me?"

Bovo stopped and gave Lynd a strange look before responding with a question of his own. "What is it you want in return?"

After a moment of silence, Lynd recalled his reaction upon encountering the Dragonbone and said in a measured tone, "You have a way of getting in and out of the Red Keep, don't you?"

Bovo replied confidently, "I wouldn't say at will, but entering and leaving the Red Keep under normal circumstances isn't a problem."

Lynd laid out his terms. "I'm curious about the Dragonbones. After King Robert took the throne, he moved all of them to the cellar beneath the Red Keep. I think with your skills, sneaking into the cellar and retrieving some Dragonbones for me shouldn't be an issue, right?"

Bovo raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering across his face. "Dragonbone? What do you want that for? It's just an unusually tough material." His gaze shifted, and with a peculiar glint in his eye, he added, "Only madmen and fools think grinding Dragonbone into powder makes for the ultimate aphrodisiac. Don't tell me you..."

"I wasn't aware the Faceless Men had a sense of humor," Lynd replied coldly, giving Bovo a sharp glare. "But this one clearly isn't funny."

Unfazed, Bovo chuckled lightly. "If it's Dragonbone you want, there's no need to raid the Red Keep's cellar. I can give you some right now."

After saying that, the Faceless Man signaled for Lynd to follow and led him into a narrow alley. They walked for a while before arriving at the door of a modest tailor's shop. The Faceless Man knocked, and after a moment, the door creaked open. An old man peeked out cautiously but relaxed as soon as he recognized the Faceless Man. He swung the door open fully without hesitation.

Instead of entering, the Faceless Man spoke to the old man in a rare and unfamiliar language. The old man nodded and disappeared into the shop. A short while later, he returned, struggling under the weight of a small but evidently heavy box.

The Faceless Man accepted the box and gestured for the old man to close the door. Then, setting the box down before Lynd, he asked, "Do you think this is enough?"

Lynd crouched down, opened the box, and reached inside. Though he had already guessed what it contained, he was still slightly taken aback to find it filled with bones. He touched each one carefully, sensing the same faint response from his cheat ability with every piece. This confirmed what he suspected—they were all Dragonbones.

Although Lynd still didn't fully understand the connection between Dragonbones and his cheat, he was confident that having so many at his disposal would allow him to figure it out eventually.

Since the Faceless Man had fulfilled his end of the agreement, Lynd saw no reason to withhold his story. The events he had experienced so far were straightforward and didn't touch upon his deepest secrets, so he began recounting what had transpired since they parted ways in the Kingswood.

The Faceless Man listened attentively, occasionally interrupting Lynd to probe for more details about certain incidents. Each time, they would shake their head, indicating that the event had no connection to the Many-Faced God.

The conversation took a turn when Lynd mentioned the girl he had saved two days ago outside the Lion Gate. At the mention of her, the Faceless Man's demeanor shifted abruptly. Their expression turned grave, and their focus intensified.

They pressed Lynd for more details about the girl, asking specifically about her condition and actions. When Lynd revealed that she had regained consciousness that same day, the Faceless Man raised a hand, signaling him to stop.

"So, the girl is the reason the Many-Faced God is paying attention?" Lynd asked cautiously.

The Faceless Man didn't respond immediately. Instead, they seemed lost in thought. After a pause, they finally said, "I want to accompany you to the Tyrell camp to see this girl. If necessary, I will take her back to the House of Black and White in Braavos."

Lynd considered this for a moment before nodding. "No problem, as long as the girl agrees."

Bovo was visibly surprised by Lynd's reply. He turned slightly, studying Lynd with a thoughtful expression. There was a deeper implication in Lynd's words—if the girl didn't want to go, even the Faceless Man wouldn't be able to force her.

Rather than feeling offended, Bovo seemed impressed. He recognized Lynd as someone who operated by principles, a rare trait in the Seven Kingdoms. This integrity marked Lynd as someone worthy of friendship.

Yet, Bovo couldn't help but feel a tinge of concern. He believed that principled individuals often didn't survive long in the cutthroat world of Westeros. Still, he hoped Lynd could prove to be the exception.

As for the girl's willingness to go to Braavos, Bovo had little doubt. In his mind, if the Many-Faced God had guided events toward her, then she must belong to the Many-Faced God.