Myles Mooton

The salty air of Dragonstone was something Myles was still getting used to, it wasn’t the scent of the sea that bothered him, he was used to that. It was rather the underlying scent of smoke and brimstone. The scent of sorcery, he thought. But Myles was an open-minded fellow, nothing like most Lords and Ladies of the realm who shat their pants at the thought of anything, not of Andal origin. He had to be, in order to serve Rhaegar properly.

“The lad is very bright indeed, he is picking up writing at an astonishing speed, I suspect he was given an education at some point in his life. He probably knows how to write in his native tongue, he clearly has experience using pen and ink. He has already learned the Andal alphabet and is capable of some light reading. I permitted him to borrow history books from the library, he took King Daeron’s Conquest of Dorne two weeks ago. I expect him to end it by the end of the next week.” Maester Corwyn was informing the prince of the progress of his two squires on scholarly pursuits, Rhaegar had ordered the Maester to give both lessons for an hour once a week, mostly to teach them how to read and write. The prince hadn’t wanted to overburden the old Maester with his capricious undertaking of turning a foreign orphan and an oversized peasant boy into anything resembling proper knights.

“His friend on the other hand is as dim as he is bright. It’s been a month and he can barely read, I haven’t been able to begin instructing him on how to write he struggles with every word, it takes him a full minute to read a sentence made of fourteen words.” The old man sighted. The prince was standing on the balcony of his solar on the Sea Dragon Tower. Sea winds blew through his silvery hair as he stared at the horizon watching the rising sun.

“And you, Ser Myles, what are your thoughts on your squires?” The prince asked. His thoughts, none of them were good when the prince had commanded him to take two ignoble kids as squires. But things change, it is what things do, he thought. “They are both greatly talented, my prince. Ben has taken to use a morning star mace he found in our armoury, he wields it fiercely in the training yard, he is steadily improving, and with his size and strength few in Dragonstone can challenge him.” He stopped to take a breath and wished he had an ale in his hand, alas the prince looked down on his men drinking so early in the day. “Lucius, well Lucius is unmatched in the yard, even I can’t beat him. He is like Aemon the Dragonknight come again, that black sword he carries, sharp and light as if it were Valyrian steel. An heirloom, the last he has of his people, he claimed when I inquired.” Myles continued. “On horseback, Ben has much to learn, he doesn’t quite trust horses yet and the beasts share the sentiment. Lucius, on the other hand, is natural, he rides as if he had been born ahorse. I’ve seen him ride without stirrups when unarmoured. He evidently has been taught how to ride a horse long before he set foot on Dragonstone.” Myles concluded his report on his new squires.

The prince tapped his finger impatiently on the balcony’s railing. “That would be enough, Maester Corwyn. I thank you for reporting so early in the morning. I know it must be hard for a man your age. You can return to your other duties now.” The prince commanded. The old Maester bowed and left the solar dragging his feet.

Myles stood in place; the prince took his time while gazing at the sea. “There is more to this than we know.” The prince’s voice broke the quiet. “I agree, my prince.” Myles concurred. The prince’s finger suddenly stopped tapping the railing. “I’m overthinking it, if he escaped a land ravaged by war and made it far enough to come to Westeros it stands to reason his family was wealthy enough to arrange and pay for his travels.” The prince sighed. “We are sure he isn’t from Westeros, and if he is from across the narrow sea, he comes from beyond the Dothraki Sea. He is also very young, my prince. I scarcely think this is something we should worry about.” Myles comforted the prince, who turned to face him and nodded in agreement.

“You are right Myles, it’s just. I have a lot in mind. Tell me. What else have you gathered about them?” The prince asked as he put a hand on Myles’ shoulder. “Of Ben, not much of note. He keeps to the faith and dreams of knights riding to glorious battle.” Myles answered. “Lucius on the other hand is more interesting, he keeps to foreign gods. He worships the sun as the god of gods, Sol Invictus, he calls it. He also performs a myriad of rituals to please the sun, lesser gods, and spirits of the earth. I don’t know the intricacies of his faith; I wasn’t eager to ask, and he wasn’t eager to explain. I do know however that when he is able to afford it, he sacrifices animals to his gods.” Myles told the prince. He was worried about this facet of Lucius, and not only because he didn’t know how he would get a septon to ordain him once he was ready to become a knight.

“Interesting.” The prince said, his face inscrutable. “He can keep to his gods if he so wishes, just make sure he doesn’t terrify the smallfolk with his rituals. The people here aren’t especially devout. They may be more tolerant of religions that practice such things so close to sorcery, but it wouldn’t do Lucius, or us, any good if rumours started to go around that we have recruited a warrior sorcerer from faraway lands.” He paused for a moment and seemed to be deep in contemplation before continuing. “That would be all for now, I’ll think about what to do with all of this. There are many things in motion…” The prince's voice lowered to a whisper as he continued talking to himself and turned back to watch the morning sea.

Myles bowed and left Prince Rhaegar on his solar to his musings, he was up early, there was no reason not to wake up his squires too and start training earlier than normal. Squires shouldn't sleep while their knight was up and about labouring in the morning. Not good at all.