Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 107: Arrival at White Harbor

―The North―

The Bite ― The Winter's Voyage...

It had been a 27-day (3 week, 6 day equivalent) sea voyage aboard the new royal galley the Winter's Voyage, where Sansa brushed her Tully auburn hair away from her face the more she felt the sea air brushing past her and felt the waves crashing against the ship. It wouldn't have been long now with White Harbor nearby, the only city and main seaport in the North – one of only five settlements in Westeros large enough to be called a city though the smallest of the five. 

Sansa hated leaving her family in King's Landing behind—the loud yet faint screaming and cries of her son still rang in her mind, but she had to check on her immediate family in Winterfell first; rumors had spread about a certain "incident" regarding an individual of the name "Arya Stark". Since then, she convinced herself to venture north with her personal guards Ser Lucius, Brienne, Podrick and Ser Olyvar. She felt nauseous, bringing a delicate hand up to cover her mouth. Sansa shook her head and shrugged at this sudden discomfort. Any further thoughts were broken by Olyvar's shouts of protests.

"Hey! No fair, that's cheating!"

Sansa turned to see him complaining at Ser Lucius over a game of cyvasse, a board game with ten pieces played on a tiled board with a screen in the middle; each of them had a different set of color combinations including ivory and onyx, ivory and jade or alabaster and onyx. The squares were each colored jade, carnelian and lapis lazuli. Overall, it was a simple strategizing game where each player had to utilize a set of tactics to win each round and the match. And from the looks of it, the young knight was losing against the Old Bull... horribly.

"Do you always complain this much over a simple board game, boy? A knight should exercise more restraint than shouting outbursts whenever they're met with an obstacle," Lucius raised an eyebrow.

Olyvar gritted his teeth. "Just you wait, old man. I'll win this—" he noticed Sansa looking at them and looked caught off guard, nearly rising out of his seat. "Oh, Y-Your Grace! Ah, w-we were just, uhh..."

Sansa seemed genuinely interested. "Are you two playing nice?" she asked rather amused.

"Of course, Your Grace," Ser Lucius replied. "Ser Olyvar is just simply upset I won our last game."

"That was luck!" he grumbled, picking up one of the pieces on the board.

Ser Lucius analyzed the pieces on the board and when he saw an opening, he seized his chance. "An accusation you've been hurling for the past three games straight. You are young, whereas this old man has more than 40 years of experience devising all sorts of military strategies and tactics since the War of the Ninepenny Kings," he explained as he moved his piece into check. "...and I'm good at this."

Aghast, Olyvar stared in dismay at the board; his fingers and nerves twitching wildly as he lost his fourth consecutive match against Ser Lucius. Pounding his hands on the small table, he simply stood up and walked away. "That's it. I'm gonna go check to see if we're close to our destination..."

Sansa and Brienne both had to stifle a choked chuckle at Olyvar's loss, hiding their amusement. Lucius simply shrugged off the youth's regular complaining at being unable to put up a decent challenge against the veteran knight.

"Well, I suppose I should be returning to my post as well..." he spoke, before gesturing to the board, "unless you would care for a game, Your Grace?"

"All right, prepare the board, Ser Lucius," Sansa boldly accepted the challenge and sat down in front of him.

With the prospect of challenging the Queen Consort to a friendly match, Ser Lucius gathered up the pieces and rearranged them on the board. "You understand the rules of cyvasse?"