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GOT Chapter 110: A Warden Named by the King
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 05:05:11 +0000 UTCKal could hardly stand the embarrassment. With a light cough, he raised his head toward the half-familiar figure on the bridge.
“Ser Brynden Tully. May we pass into the Vale?”
Yes—the knight of the Bloody Gate before them was none other than Brynden Tully, younger brother of Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun.
At Kal’s words, Ser Brynden Tully shook off his surprise and returned to himself.
Looking down from the Bloody Gate, he saw the boy he remembered—once just a child he had only glimpsed a few times, a bastard—and Brynden’s heart grew strangely heavy, tinged with sentiment.
After Robert’s Rebellion, he had accompanied Lysa Tully and her new husband, Lord Jon Arryn, to the Vale. Thereafter, Jon had appointed him knight of the Bloody Gate.
“Kal—” Hearing that title of Warden of the East announced below, Brynden’s voice—already hoarse—scraped like gravel on stone.
How could he not know that after Lord Jon Arryn’s death, Robert Baratheon had reclaimed the title of Warden of the East, and had not passed it on by right of succession to young Lord Robert Arryn of the Eyrie?
And now, inexplicably, Robert had bestowed that title on his bastard son—and sent word of it throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
The lords of the Vale, being vassals under the Warden of the East, of course received the command as well.
This sudden appointment had stirred great upheaval among them.
Some supported it. Some remained silent. But more voiced their opposition.
Their reasons were varied.
Brynden Tully understood well enough what the lords were grumbling about. But such matters were beyond the reproach or participation of a knight of the Bloody Gate.
What was more, before Kal had even set foot in the Vale, those same lords, having received the king’s decree, had already gathered in the Eyrie.
Now, those lords were waiting for this bastard before their eyes.
Thinking on all this, Brynden Tully gave a quiet sigh in his heart. Then, standing upon the arch bridge, he bent his body in a bow toward Kal Stone at the Bloody Gate.
“I pay you honor, my lord Warden of the East!
“In the name of Lord Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, I grant you passage—and bid you keep peace in his name."
“My lord Warden, they await your arrival at the Eyrie.”
...
The Bloody Gate, of course, was no obstacle to stop Kal from reaching the Eyrie.
Whether in terms of law and title, or custom and courtesy—
In theory, if the knights of the Bloody Gate truly followed the Lord of the Eyrie’s orders, they could refuse entry even to Kal, the newly named “Warden of the East.”
But as for Lady Lysa Tully’s unreasonable command, Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, had no intention of obeying it.
Thus, after letting Kal pass the Bloody Gate in Lord Robert Arryn’s name, Brynden also gathered a small retinue and his own baggage, and rode alongside Kal toward the Eyrie.
“Ser Brynden Tully, you need not escort me yourself,” Kal said, glancing at him as they rode side by side. “Nor is there any need for you to wade into these muddy waters.”
A smile touched Kal’s face, as if his words were both a reminder—
Or perhaps, a kind of praise.
At this, Brynden turned his head to look at him.
“And why would you think that?”
There was a hint of curiosity in Brynden’s tone, though his gaze carried something of a test.
Kal noticed his look, but only shrugged, offering no reply.
That silence made Brynden, in turn, grow a little curious about him.
After a short while, seeing Kal never once glance at him but kept his eyes fixed ahead on the road, Brynden could not hold back.
“I’ve heard the stories,” he said at last, “about what’s happened to you in this time.”
“Then tell me, Ser—do you resent the king for naming me Warden of the East?” Kal asked, his tone casual, almost curious.
His eyes flickered with a trace of probing, though he still did not look Brynden’s way.
The sudden question weighed on Brynden, and he fell silent again.
It was only after half a minute or so that Ser Brynden Tully finally spoke, slowly.
“That is the king’s authority—and his duty.”
“I do not question the king’s thoughts, nor do I hold any opinion on the decision. It is not for me to dwell upon.”
Hearing this, Kal gave a small laugh. “But clearly, not everyone thinks as you do.”
It was his way of summing up Brynden’s answer.
Brynden, catching the pointed undertone, recalled the recent unrest in the Vale and shook his head.
“The title of Warden of the East—the king made it clear you hold it only in the Lord of the Eyrie’s stead, until young Robert Arryn comes of age to govern. Perhaps that is a sound appointment.”
“And from what I see, your deeds in this short time have already proven your ability.”
Those words, more unexpected than Kal had foreseen, piqued his interest.
He turned his head at last, meeting Brynden’s gaze. “So that is how Ser Brynden sees me. It seems I ought to have more faith in myself, then.”
“That is but my personal view. It does not stand for others.”
Seeing Kal’s spirits lift, Brynden’s expression grew stern again, his tone serious.
Kal only smiled.
“But have you ever considered—what if, when the time comes, I refuse to hand over power?”
“Or what if King Robert harbors different intentions altogether?”
“Isn’t that exactly what the lords of the Vale are worried about?”
Three questions in a row, striking at the heart of the matter.
At that, Brynden’s brow furrowed faintly, unsure how to answer.
In the end, this was nothing more than the king’s political balancing of the realm.
It was certainly not something a mere knight of the Bloody Gate had any say in.
All he could do was his duty.
With that thought, Brynden could not help but sigh inwardly.
Yet Kal’s words, which seemed almost like undermining his own standing, left Brynden uncertain of the young man’s depths. He truly did not know what this barely grown boy was aiming for.
Born and raised a bastard in the Vale, Kal could not possibly be ignorant of its condition.
But their talk had already wandered too far into things best left unsaid. Realizing as much, Brynden frowned and shifted the topic instead: “Well, these matters are not for me to worry over—and I believe the king and the Hand both have their own designs. I trust them.”
“As for the Riverlands, I have also heard what you did there. On behalf of House Tully, I ought to thank you.”
Thus did Ser Brynden Tully end the talk of politics, turning the matter toward something more personal.
At that, Kal’s expression grew darker.
“I’ve done little to aid Riverrun, Ser Brynden. And as for Tywin Lannister—no one knows what he is thinking, or what he intends to do.”
“But that, in truth, is the very reason I came here.”
His eyes grew deep, his voice betraying no trace of joy or anger.
“I cannot understand what Lysa is thinking. She should never have acted this way.”
Hearing him, Brynden’s face shadowed, his expression grim.
“Is that why you’ve chosen to step into these troubled waters, Ser Brynden?” Kal asked with a smile. “It hardly seems a rational choice.”
The topic had circled back again. Brynden straightened, his tone firm. “I am a knight.”
“Yes, you are,” Kal replied, his expression softening.
He turned his head, gazing at this upright man of strong duty. With a smile, he said quietly, “I need your help.”
...
The Gates of the Moon lay at the foot of the Giant’s Lance, surrounded by a moat, with a guardhouse and a square tower within.
The castle stood watch over the road leading to the Eyrie.
Arriving once more before its gates—after more than five years away—Kal suddenly felt both familiar and estranged.
Compared to the single year he had truly lived here, those six months in King’s Landing now seemed the more real.
Here, instead, felt strangely unreal—like a mere interlude.
The Gates of the Moon itself was larger than the Eyrie. It was said that in the snows of winter, House Arryn abandoned the Eyrie to dwell here, returning only when summer came again.
Kal knew this place well.
But as for its current keeper—he was not so familiar.
Or rather, the Gates of the Moon had no true keeper now. The one who received them was Nestor Royce, who had already served as High Steward of the Vale in the Eyrie for fourteen years.
It was he who had once offered to resign from service to House Arryn.
