The Game of Cyvasse

Daughter of the First men

Lord Mooton's daughter generously gifted her several new dresses, adding a touch of elegance and color to her days in Maidenpool, amidst the busy camp and the looming uncertainties.

She felt the war fading from her mind, as she sat in the verdant park, beside the castle, watching the boats glide into the harbor. Strong Thunderex stood beside her, her guardian, always as silent as a statue. The dark days of strife did not dim the vibrant trade, vessels laden with goods sailed from Essos, and Sansa would often receive a gift of silk or spice from faraway lands she had never seen.

"Your Westeros has a certain allure. Wild and untamed, yet alluring," a voice startled her from behind. It was Lysono Maar, the spymaster, who smiled at her with a hint of mischief. "Lady Sansa, how do you fare this day?".

Many joys had graced Sansa's life in recent moons, but she was still sorrowful for she had not heard from her mother and brother. Dark thoughts haunted her; what if the raven had fallen; she knew that arrows felled the winged messengers, for in war, knowledge was more precious than gold, as her father had taught Robb. Or mayhaps the letter was never sent, and she was fooled once more by the schemes of her keepers, entombed in false hopes, swayed by her own yearnings. She searched Lysono's face for a sign of deceit, but she knew she lacked the skill to read men; she thought of Littlefinger then, he surely had it.

"I am well, my Lord," she said to Lysono with courtesy; today she had no mood for his witty words; though the effeminate Lyseni was the nearest thing to a friend she had here; she almost laughed at that notion and wondered how Jayne Poole would envy him for that.

“I am no lord, I fear,” Lysono Maar tried to say, but he was interrupted by a strange commotion that filled the courtyard of the castle.

Lysono and Sansa climbed the stairs to the top of the wall where the courtyard was visible. Captain of the cavalry Otreyes, on his big black horse, was waiting in front of the entrance gate; his golden armor and orange cloak were smeared with mud, his sword was hidden in a sheath of wolf skin, with an open wolf's jaw at the beginning. He held a red banner in his hand; Sansa could barely see his face under the lifted visor. Of all the officers of the Golden Company, Otreyes was the rarest at Lord Mooton's court, he seldom graced the feasts with his presence.

"I have, the Mountain, on the run", said Otreyes in a loud and somewhat hasty voice, tossing a banner on the courtyard ground; whose face Sansa recognized. Lannisters.

Otreyes’s eyes met the fiery crimson hair of Lord Connington, next to whom Aegon stood before Sansa's eyes, his shadow blended with the shadow of the weirwood crown. The king's beautiful white face was now adorned with anger, the skin around his purple eyes was powerfully wrinkled and colored in red, with frowning eyebrows, like gloomy clouds, whose thunder will roar powerfully across the horizont.

"So what are you doing here, then? Why didn’t you pursue him?", Aegon snapped at Otreyes with an angry voice, but Sansa shivered; she had never seen him angry, but now he looked like a beast that wanted to devour Captain Otreyes.

"I came to give my report, because the beast escaped beyond our lines; boundaries that you set for us", equally powerfully shouted Captain Otreyes, as if he was not addressing the King, but an ordinary soldier. "I had only three centuries at my disposal and I cut down two thirds of his men. He is returning with his tail tucked where he came from. If you hadn’t scattered my centuries all over this godsforsaken land, maybe I would have followed him.”

The news of his cavalry’s success did not soothe Aegon’s mood, “How dare you! You knew that Clegane was a priority, and you let him slip through your fingers".

The anger of their exchange seemed more powerful than the howling of the sea wind; Otreyes just snorted and turned his back and left the courtyard.

Aegon caught sight of Sansa on the battlements, and for a moment, she could discern a hint of shame on his face. He didn't want me to see him like this.