Sefton Woodhull

He was looking at the stars through the window while taking a sip from his wine sack, they had come back from the feast a few hours ago and had decided to have a private celebration. Next to him, Tommard was sitting on the floor, applying some paste he had been preparing for hours to Imry’s bruises, he had many, on his right arm and shoulder, on his back and his stomach. Imry remained silent, but Sefton could guess it hurt, all his muscles were tense.

Garth was sitting on the table with his feet on the chair playing his lute to a cheerful tone. “A bear there was, a bear, a bear...” Garth sang along with Ben who cheerfully moved his mug full of ale to the tune of the song, spilling some of it on the floor around where sat. Ferret was leaning on the door while holding a book and staring at its contents, Sefton gathered the man had probably never seen a book in his life. Lucius sat on the bed, disapprovingly looking at the spilt ale on the floor, it made sense since it was his room after all.

All of them were wearing fine clothes given to them by Lord Whent, he had been a great host and incredibly thoughtful, Sefton couldn’t quite believe the man had invited the likes of his team into his castle while he hosted lords from all over the realm. Lord Whent even had sent servants to help them carry their possessions to the castle, it seemed that being moderately successful in a tourney as grand as this had its advantages.

Sefton looked back towards the window, feeling the nightly air upon his face, from here he could see the thousands of tents and bonfires surrounding the castle, if he didn’t know any better he would think Harrenhal was being besieged. After having won three fights they had been invited to stay in the castle. They even were allowed to join the feast, although they had been mostly ignored and were seated on the edges of the hall, it didn’t matter much, everyone had enjoyed the lavish food they had been served. Sefton especially appreciated the quality of the wine, he had tasted two kinds of Dornish reds, Arbor gold, there had been spiced honey wine from Lannisport, and Sefton’s favourite, blackberry wine from the Vale, which tasted of home.

They only had one fight ahead of them, they had fought three teams during the day and bested them despite everyone’s expectations. Ferret had proven to be quick and cunning. Ben was strong and although he hadn’t won any duel on his own, he could hold his ground long enough for another to defeat their opponent and come to help. Imry and Garth were capable fighters, they were no heroes of legend to be sure but good enough, they fought well together and avoided duels, they had bested good knights fighting two on two. Tommard was a bit old, grey was beginning to show on his otherwise red hair, and not the strongest or most cunning of warriors by any measure, but he contributed in other ways to the team, the last match he had pointed out to Sefton what he had recognized to be a past injury on an old Mormont left leg.

That had been the last match, Sefton charged at the Mormont and defeated him in a matter of a few seconds, he then helped Ben to quickly dispatch his opponent, and in less than a minute it had turned into a seven against five, they easily won. Sefton couldn’t claim all the credit for their fortune though, it was Lucius who had turned the two previous matches in their favour. In the first one he had bested the knight in front of him with three fiercely quick strikes, helped the brothers beat their opponents and in less than a minute turned the match into a seven against four. In the second match, Tommard had been quickly defeated, the knight who did it attacked Imry from behind and took him down with fierce strikes, Lucius defeated his opponent and took on the burden of fighting the two knights who had been fighting the brothers alone while Garth fought the knight who had defeated Tommard, Lucius held on long enough for Sefton to defeat Ser Buckwell and come to his help.

All in all, it had been a long day, but tomorrow would be a day of rest, which meant it wouldn’t hurt for him to take another sip of the good Dornish red on his wine sack. He followed his thought with swift action and took a good gulp of wine.

“There,” Tommard said while dusting off his hands. “Come see me tomorrow and I’ll apply another mix, you’ll be as good as new for the match,” Tommard told Imry and stood up, going towards Garth and taking away the chair from under his feet.

“I called for a knight but you are a… Hey!” Garth complained while losing his balance and falling on his feet, interrupting the singing and music. Tommard just shrugged before positioning the chair away from Garth and sitting on it. “I’m too old to be sitting on the floor for too long, you got your sit, don’t be greedy.” Tommard lectured while balancing on his newly acquired chair, taking herbs from his pocket and chewing it.

Garth glared at him for a moment, but at the insistence of Ben resuming the singing after using the interruption to take a long gulp from his ale, Garth conceded and began playing and singing again.

“What are you thinking about so much?” Imry’s voice turned Sefton's attention towards him. “Nothing much, a man can’t do much thinking with this much wine in his belly” He laughingly replied. “What a feast” Imry nodded, “I hadn’t eaten that well, neither in quantity nor in quality, in all my life,” He told Sefton.

Sefton laughed. “None in this room had, I’d wager if I were a waging man.” He said, “although I can’t say my meals lacked in quality while I lived in The Paps. The cook in the keep would prepare buttered crab with garlic you wouldn’t imagine.” He commented.

Imry raised an eyebrow. “You grew up in a castle?” He asked. Sefton furrowed his brow, he must’ve drank more than he had thought if he was talking about his childhood with men he met a few days past and hardly knew.

“Nay.” He replied, “my Ser father was a landed knight in The Paps, seven bless him, our family boasts a small but beautiful keep. My brother has ruled it since my father’s death.” He told Imry who remained in silence for a moment before staring at him with a look of realization. “Why have you been roaming the realm for so long then, if there is a home you can return to?” Imry asked him.

“Bah! I’m a knight and knightly life is the only life I wish to know, I have seen many great sights and lived many adventures, there is no home but the never-ending roads for me.” He shut down his inquiring friend before the conversation advanced further. “Anyways, you should try buttered crab someday, you’ll see that if well prepared it has nothing to envy the foods in the lavish feast we just attended,” Sefton told him, Imry nodded.

He stared at Imry for a moment before winking at him, at which Imry raised an eyebrow. He would get it. “Does that mush Tommard smeared all over you work at all?” Sefton asked him, raising his voice.

Imry seemed to be about to answer when a look of realization came to his face, and he turned to Tommard who had stopped balancing in the chair and was staring at Sefton. For a moment there was silence. “Of course it works! You plain-headed oaf! You dullard! Ignoramus! You simpleton with a wine-fermented brain attempt at a knight! Don’t you doubt my knowledge!” Tommard shouted at Sefton from across the room, spitting his chewing herb all over Ben’s hair while waving his finger menacingly at Sefton. Ben’s face was filled with disgust while he was trying to clean the spit-wet herb from his hair by rubbing his hand on it. At which Sefton and Imry burst out laughing, which didn’t help to calm Tommard’s temper. He kept barraging Imry and him with insults for at least ten minutes, making Sefton laugh even harder, he didn’t know exactly when, but eventually everyone except for Tommard and Ben was laughing.

Tommard’s ire continued to increase until he stood up and threw the chair at Sefton, who attempted to catch it, which proved to be much too difficult for the state of drunkenness he found himself into. The chair hit Sefton in the leg and Tommard stormed out of the room, even though his leg hurt Sefton couldn’t stop laughing for some time. It took a while but in time everyone calmed down.

“I didn’t take you to be so mischievous Ser, I would have guessed you were of a more serious nature.” Imry prodded him. Sefton laughed. “I blame the wine, poor Tommard, he gets roused so easily.” He joked.

“Mayhaps you shouldn’t drink so much then if it compels you to act so unchivalrous.” Imry mockingly chastised him. “Mayhaps.” Sefton nodded with a smile. He threw his wine sack at Imry who caught it in the air and winked again. “You finish that then; I’ll go to get some rest. You can return it some other time.” Sefton said as he stood up. He bid everyone goodnight. He then went to Tommard’s room to apologize but before he knocked on the door he heard the old man’s snores. He smiled; old men needed their rest. He went directly to his room.

He took his boots and the fine clothes they had been given to attend the feast off and laid on his bed, covering himself with furs to keep warm. He stared at the ceiling for some time, he could feel the chilling wind coming from the window in his face. He was finally drifting into the realm of dreams when he was woken by a soft knock on his door, he slowly rose from the bed. Who could it be? “Come in.” He spoke. The door opened and a figure entered the room, what a surprise.