The ride back to Fairmarket was quieter than the ride out.
Not because we had fewer men.
We did.
Two of ours would never ride again.
Ser Owen had taken an axe through the thigh that had severed the artery before the maester could reach him. Young Pate, barely sixteen and serving as an archer for less than a year, had died with an arrow through his chest before he'd even loosed his second shaft.
We buried them beneath an old oak overlooking the road they had died protecting.
Ser Harlan said the words.
Damon placed their swords upon the cairn.
No one spoke during the ride home.
Lord Lucias received us in the courtyard.
He listened to Damon's report without interruption.
"Twenty-seven bandits confirmed dead," Damon finished. "Three escaped into the woods. The captives were recovered alive. Their goods, where identifiable, have been returned."
Lord Lucias nodded once.
"Our losses?"
"Ser Owen. Pate."
A long silence.
"See their families provided for."
"They already have been."
"I expected no less."
His eyes drifted toward me.
"And Talion?"
I straightened instinctively.
"He acquitted himself well," Damon answered.
"He held the line."
"He obeyed orders."
"He killed."
Lord Lucias regarded me for several long moments.
"You've become a man faster than you'd like."
I wasn't certain there was an answer to that.
So I bowed my head.
"Yes, my lord."
The castle settled over the next week.
The rescued merchants departed with grateful words and promises to sing House Vypren's praises wherever they traveled.
The roads quieted.
Scouts found no sign of the surviving bandits.
News spread quickly through the Riverlands that the King's road near Fairmarket had been cleared.
Lord Lucias seemed satisfied.
Lady Lythene merely remarked that she hoped the next group of outlaws would possess the courtesy to die somewhere less inconvenient.
Life resumed.
Or tried to.
I trained.
I worked.
I polished armor.
But something had changed.
Not outside.
Inside.
The boy who had left Fairmarket had not returned.
Sometimes, late at night, I still saw the face of the first man I'd killed.
Damon noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He noticed everything.
He simply never spoke of it.
Until one morning.
"Come with me."
That was all he said.
We left the castle shortly after dawn.
No escort.
No men-at-arms.
Just the two of us riding north along the river.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see."
That usually meant I wouldn't like the answer.
This time...
I didn't mind.
The morning was beautiful.
Mist drifted over the water.
Birds skimmed across the Trident.
Autumn had painted the trees in gold and crimson until the whole world seemed to burn without heat.
After an hour we reached a low hill overlooking Fairmarket.
I recognized it immediately.
Years ago Damon had brought me here after one particularly miserable week of training because, as he'd put it, "everyone deserves one good view now and then."
We dismounted.
He handed me the reins.
Then walked to the crest of the hill.
Waiting.
I joined him.
For a while neither of us spoke.
The keep sat in the distance, its walls catching the morning light.
Beyond it wound the river.
Farther still stretched fields ready for harvest.
Home.
Damon finally broke the silence.
"How long have you served House Vypren?"
I blinked.
"8 years."
"You remember the first day?"
"You insulted me."
"You deserved it."
"I was 17."
"You deserved it anyway."
A corner of his mouth twitched.
"Probably."
Another silence.
Then—
He drew his sword.
My heart skipped.
"Damon?"
He turned toward me.
No.
Not Damon.
Ser Damon Vypren.
Knight of House Vypren.
His voice was calm.
Formal.
"Talion Rivers."
My breath caught.
"You have served faithfully."
The sword rested point-down before him.
"You have shown courage."
"I've watched you grow from a frightened child into a worthy young man."
"I have seen you stand your ground."
"Protect the helpless."
"Honor your word."
His eyes met mine.
"You have earned what comes next."
Everything inside me became suddenly, impossibly still.
He lifted the sword.
"Kneel."
I did.
Without hesitation.
The damp grass soaked through my trousers.
I scarcely noticed.
The flat of the blade rested lightly upon my right shoulder.
"In the name of the Warrior..."
It moved to the left.
"I charge you to be brave."
Back again.
"In the name of the Father..."
"...to be just."
"The Mother..."
"...to defend the innocent."
"The Maiden..."
"...to protect those unable to protect themselves."
"The Smith..."
"...to build rather than destroy whenever you can."
"The Crone..."
"...to seek wisdom before glory."
"The Stranger..."
"...to remember that death comes for all men."
His voice softened.
"And in my own name..."
"...I charge you never to forget where you came from."
The sword lifted away.
"Rise..."
A pause.
The smallest smile.
"Ser Talion."
I stood.
Slowly.
My legs felt strangely unsteady.
Ser.
The word hardly seemed real.
"I..."
For perhaps the second time in my life—
Speech abandoned me.
Damon looked faintly amused.
"I was beginning to think you'd finally learned silence."
I laughed.
It came out somewhere between a laugh and something dangerously close to tears.
"You..."
I swallowed.
"You actually did it."
"I said I would."
"I know."
"You doubted me."
"I doubted me."
His expression changed.
Just a little.
"You shouldn't."
Then, before I could say another word—
He stepped forward.
And embraced me.
Briefly.
Awkwardly.
Entirely unlike Damon.
It lasted perhaps two seconds.
Three at most.
Then he stepped back as though nothing had happened.
"I'll deny that."
"I'll tell everyone."
"You'll discover knights can still be thrown in rivers."
"I'd like to see you try."
"I taught you to swim."
We both laughed.
When we returned to Fairmarket, Lord Lucias was waiting.
"So?"
Damon answered simply.
"It is done."
Lord Lucias looked at me.
Not the way he'd looked at me when I was ten.
Or twelve.
Or fifteen.
He nodded.
"Well earned."
Lady Lythene examined me from head to toe.
"Hm."
I waited.
Finally she said,
"It suits you."
Coming from Lady Lythene...
That was practically an embrace.
Three days later Damon found me in the stable yard.
"Saddle your horse."
"Why?"
"We're taking leave."
"Where?"
He looked at me as though the answer were obvious.
"The Crossroads."
I stared.
The inn.
My parents.
I hadn't seen them in years.
Not properly.
Letters, occasionally.
News carried by merchants.
But not...
them.
"You should tell them yourself."
The ride south felt strangely familiar.
Every bend in the road awakened memories.
The old willow where I'd once fallen trying to climb too high.
The stream where I'd caught frogs with Willem.
The weathered milestone I'd sworn was haunted when I was seven.
Everything looked smaller.
Or perhaps...
I had simply grown.
The inn came into view just before sunset.
The painted sign creaked gently above the road.
The same weathered building.
The same stable.
The same smoke curling from the chimney.
For a long moment neither Damon nor I moved.
Then he smiled.
"Go."
I climbed down before my horse had fully stopped.
The door burst open before I reached it.
My mother.
She froze.
Looked at me.
Blinking.
Her eyes filled immediately.
"Talion?"
I smiled.
"Hello, Mother."
She crossed the distance between us almost running.
Wrapped both arms around me.
"You've grown."
"So I've been told."
"You idiot."
"I missed you too."
She laughed through tears.
Then hit my shoulder.
Hard enough to remind me she was still herself.
"You stayed away too long."
"I know."
My father appeared behind her.
Older.
More gray in his beard.
Still broad as an ox.
Still wearing his apron.
He looked at me.
Then at Damon.
Then back to me.
"You look expensive."
I laughed.
"I polish regularly."
He grunted.
"Good."
That was as close to overwhelming emotion as my father generally ventured.
Until...
His eyes found the sword at my hip.
Then the spurs.
Then—
The belt.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
He looked back up.
"...You're wearing a knight's belt."
I nodded.
Silence.
"You..."
His voice caught.
Actually caught.
"When?"
"Three days ago."
Mother gasped.
Father simply stared.
Then—
Without warning—
He pulled me into the fiercest embrace I'd ever received.
"You did it."
His voice was rough.
"My boy..."
"You actually did it."
Over his shoulder I saw Damon standing beside the horses.
Watching quietly.
My father released me.
Walked straight toward Damon.
Stopped.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then my father extended his hand.
"No."
He seemed to reconsider.
Instead...
He embraced Damon too.
Briefly.
Firmly.
"Thank you."
Just two words.
Damon looked almost alarmed by the display of affection.
"I only recognized what he'd already become."
"You gave him the chance."
Father stepped back.
His eyes suspiciously bright.
"I'll never forget that."
Damon inclined his head.
"There was never anything to forgive."
That evening the inn was fuller than I'd ever remembered.
Word traveled quickly along the kingsroad.
By supper every traveler within earshot knew that the innkeeper's son had returned...
Not as Talion Rivers.
But as Ser Talion Rivers, knighted by Ser Damon Vypren of House Vypren.
The ale flowed more freely than usual.
Mother cried three more times.
Father insisted everyone drink to my health.
Willem—now almost grown himself—declared loudly that he'd once beaten me in a wrestling match when we were children.
I informed everyone he'd neglected to mention I had been 6.
The argument lasted through the night.
For the first time in years...
The inn felt exactly as it had when I was a boy.
Only now, I returned not as the child who had dreamed of becoming a knight...
But as the man who had.