In the first match, Greene effortlessly unhorsed the Knight of The Twins.
In the second match, his opponent was Duke Renly.
When Duke Renly entered, the cheers from the spectators were endless.
Greene took the lance with one hand and casually asked, "Do you like Duke Renly very much too?"
The Gold Cloaks were "omnipotent"; they had even brought in some people to assist with the tournament, for instance, handing lances to the competing knights.
The young Gold Cloak in front of him had served under Greene for a period during the Kingswood Hunting.
The young Gold Cloak's gaze drifted towards Duke Renly's direction in the distance, and his voice was filled with reverence: "Yes, Lord Greene!"
Seeing Greene had a firm grip on the lance, he withdrew his hand and added, "Duke Renly is very kind to us; he is a good person."
Greene nodded slightly. Duke Renly could converse intimately with both high-born lords and low-status maids.
Greene showed a slight smile: "Unfortunately, I'm not good at holding back."
The young Gold Cloak hesitated, then cautiously said, "Could you go a little easier?"
"Go."
With a clang, Greene pulled down his visor and spurred his horse to the starting line at the edge of the field.
.....
Duke Renly wore deep green armor made of fine steel, and on his antlered helmet, two magnificent golden antlers shone brightly.
The trumpet for the joust blew, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Both sides simultaneously spurred their horses, charging forward, and the ground vibrated with their movement.
Greene leaned forward, his blue cloak embroidered with swamp marigolds fluttering.
Duke Renly stared through the slits of his visor at the opponent charging towards him. He was experienced and had already adjusted his posture, ready to thrust his lance at any moment.
Clip-clop, clip-clop... Here he comes! Just as Duke Renly was about to attack, he was suddenly struck hard in the chest, almost flying backward horizontally from his warhorse... With a thud, he crashed heavily onto the ground.
Hiss! The entire audience gasped.
Greene took off his helmet, shook his hair, and prepared to ride around the field to receive the enthusiastic cheers from the spectators, as was customary.
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Seeing Duke Renly get up from the ground, the entire crowd cheered for him... King Robert's youngest brother had always been well-liked. He took off his helmet, held it in his hand, and bowed gracefully towards the stands, making the cheers even more frantic.
Count Greene became the ignored victor.
He felt the wind direction, spurred his horse, and rode past Duke Renly from the upwind side, kicking up a large cloud of dust.
Cough, cough, cough. Duke Renly, who was enjoying the cheers with his eyes closed, was suddenly assaulted by the dust and couldn't stop coughing loudly.
Laughter came from many people around, with King Robert's voice being the loudest.
.....
On the royal stand, King Robert laughed heartily. He loved nothing more than seeing people he knew get frustrated.
King Robert picked up his goblet, took a big gulp of wine, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Ned, isn't this lad good?"
With a thud, he put down his goblet and added, "That idiot Renly, when he loses, he doesn't hurry off. He still stands there like a victor, and as a result... Haha, he ran into a carefree young man!"
Duke Eddard glanced at Queen Cersei, who was smiling triumphantly on the other side.
"This is what a young man should be like."
"Haha, how wild we were at his age. I remember Jon was worried all the time."
What wonderful memories... Duke Eddard smiled.
Queen Cersei sipped her summer red, a cold smile on her face. Since he liked reminiscing so much, she would try to send him to reunite with his old acquaintances as soon as possible.
.....
In the afternoon, Greene first unhorsed a mercenary knight wearing a checkered cloak, and then he unhorsed Sandor, the Hound.
Jaime's record was also impressive. He easily defeated Ser Andar Royce and Count Bryse Caron of Dorne as if in a riding exhibition, then engaged in a fierce multi-round battle with Ser Barristan before claiming victory.
Ser Gregor Clegane, nicknamed the Mountain, was nearly eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms as thick as small tree trunks. His mount looked like a toy horse under his armored feet, and the lance in his hand seemed like a broomstick. He fiercely defeated opponent after opponent, and almost everyone who was unhorsed suffered serious injuries.
The Knight of Flowers entered and exited three times, first defeating three Kingsguard, then facing the younger of the Royce brothers. His family's ancestral charm seemed unable to withstand the Knight of Flowers' bravery; Robar, dizzy and unable to move, was carried back to his tent on a stretcher.
The thunder of warhorse hooves and the jousting continued all day, trampling the jousting grounds into a desolate wasteland.
Finally, only four remained in the field: Count Greene Kleber, Ser Jaime Lannister, Ser Loras Tyrell, and Ser Gregor Clegane.
By this time, the moon had already risen, and people were tired, so King Robert announced that the last three jousting matches would be held tomorrow morning, followed by the melee and archery competitions.
Everyone headed to the river to attend the tournament feast.
Inside the camp, six astonishingly large yaks slowly turned on roasting spits, while nearby cooks busily basted them with butter and spices until the meat was fragrant and crispy, dripping with fat. Outside the tents, long tables and benches were set up, laden with beets, strawberries, and freshly baked bread.
.....
Bards sat in front of the King's tent, letting beautiful music flow through the twilight. A juggler tossed burning sticks into the air. The King's fool, Moon Boy, dressed in colorful clothes, danced on stilts and mocked everyone present with his clever and sharp tongue, eliciting continuous laughter.
Sansa and Maester Mordane were seated to the left of the King and Queen. When Prince Joffrey sat down to her right, she felt her heart flutter like a trapped bird.
Joffrey's hair gleamed like pure gold. He wore a dark blue doublet embroidered with two rows of golden lion heads, and on his forehead, a delicate coronet made of gold and sapphires.
Sansa felt Joffrey was as dashing as a prince from a song, and she was completely captivated.
Joffrey, with an elegant smile, leaned down and kissed Sansa's hand.
"My dear Lady Sansa, you are too charming."
Hearing Joffrey's gentle praise, Sansa's heart seemed to sing.
Sansa smiled, pursing her lips, trying to appear serious... She wanted to be polite and calm in front of Joffrey.
Sansa and Joffrey chatted about the tournament.
Sansa straightened her small waist and said, "Prince Joffrey, who do you think will be the champion tomorrow?"
"Of course, my uncle Jaime."
Joffrey's expression was full of confidence. He continued, "In a few years, when I can enter the tournament, I will take care of everyone. Lady Sansa, I will personally crown you Queen of Love and Beauty then."
Thump-thump, Sansa felt she had completely fallen in love with Joffrey.
Joffrey looked at Sansa and curled his lips. He raised his hand and summoned a servant to bring a pitcher of summer red, then personally poured a cup for Sansa.
Sansa didn't need wine; she was already intoxicated by the magic of the night, utterly captivated by the prince of her dreams.
At the same time, a stream of delicious food was brought in and taken away: thick barley venison soup, chilled beets sprinkled with nut shards, spinach and plum salad, and snails cooked with honey and garlic.
Sansa had never eaten snails, so Joffrey taught her how to dig the meat out of the shell and personally fed her the sweet first bite.
Next was baked Trout encased in clay. Joffrey walked over and personally pried open the hard clay covering, cut a piece from the portion only Queen Cersei was entitled to, and smilingly placed it on Sansa's plate.
Joffrey embodied all courtesies, chatting with Sansa all evening, showering her with compliments one after another, making Sansa laugh non-stop.
Additionally, Joffrey shared trivial gossip from the Red Keep with Sansa, explained Moon Boy's jokes, and so on. By the end, she had forgotten all the etiquette she had learned, leaving only laughter... Ah, this night was too wonderful.
.....
.....
The next day, morning.
After Duke Eddard entered the jousting arena with King Robert, he walked through the crowd and sat down beside his daughter.
Maester Mordane was unwell today, and Duke Eddard had already promised last night to watch the jousting championship with Sansa.
Duke Eddard looked around but didn't see his younger daughter, so he asked, "Where is Arya?"
Sansa obediently said, "Father, my sister ran off to Jon's side..."
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. At that moment, the jousting horn sounded, and Sansa's attention immediately turned to the arena.
Today's first match was Greene against Jaime. He appeared first in the arena, bowing from his horse to King Robert from afar.
Jaime entered on a blood-brown warhorse draped in gilded ring mail, himself gleaming golden from head to toe. He occasionally blew kisses to the ladies in the stands.
Greene: "..."
.....
Greene and Jaime rode to the edge of the field and stopped their horses. As the horn sounded, both horses began to gallop at full speed.
With a thud, the blood-brown horse was riderless; it ran off by itself to graze... The gleaming Jaime rolled in the mud.
Greene rode around the field, accepting the cheers, while Jaime awkwardly got up from the mud and left.
.....
Sansa's small hand gripped her father's, and she excitedly said, "Father, Count Greene is so amazing!"
Duke Eddard looked at Greene, who was riding around the field, feeling relieved. He smiled and said, "His movements are very agile, and he has great strength."
Duke Eddard saw clearly that just as the Kingslayer was about to thrust his lance, Greene's lance struck his opponent's chest first.
Eddard thought of his eldest son... Robb was also very good at jousting; he and Greene should get along very well.
"Father, who do you think will win the championship? Can the Knight of Flowers defeat Count Greene?"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. The horn for the knights' entrance sounded again.
Loras's mount was a beautiful grey mare, agile and swift. Ser Gregor's large stallion neighed as soon as it caught its scent.
With a gentle nudge of his feet, Loras made the grey mare leap lightly from side to side like a nimble dancer. He tugged on the reins, and the horse galloped towards the starting line on the other side.
Sansa sighed in relief when Loras easily resolved the problem.
She looked worriedly at Ser Gregor, who was built like a giant mountain, and said, "Father, don't let Ser Gregor hurt the Knight of Flowers."
Duke Eddard patiently explained, "Don't worry, Sansa. They are using jousting lances, which will shatter upon impact, so no one will be injured."
After speaking, he frowned slightly, looking at Ser Gregor, who had difficulty controlling his mount... He had heard that when King's Landing fell, the seventeen-year-old Gregor was with Duke Tywin. Although he had just been knighted, he was already renowned far and wide for his immense size and unparalleled ferocity.
Some said that Gregor was the one who smashed baby Prince Aegon Targaryen against a wall, and that he then raped the baby's mother, Princess Ilia of Dorne, before finally killing her with a sword.
Duke Eddard didn't remember ever speaking to Gregor, but Gregor had fought alongside him and thousands of other knights during the suppression of Balon Greyjoy's rebellion.
He didn't easily believe rumors, but the rumors about Ser Gregor seemed too plausible... Some said he was about to marry for the third time, and there were various horrific rumors behind the deaths of his two previous wives.
It was said that his castle was a grim and terrifying place, with servants mysteriously disappearing, and even dogs hardly dared to enter the great hall. Furthermore, his sister died mysteriously when she was young, his brother was disfigured by fire, and his father died in a hunting accident.
.....
The warhorse screamed and whinnied, constantly stomping its hooves and shaking its head. The Mountain furiously kicked it with his steel-clad feet, and the horse reared on its hind legs, almost throwing him off.
Ser Gregor pulled and tugged on the reins for a long time, finally managing to bring the horse to the starting line at the edge of the field.
The horn sounded. The Mountain had just spurred his horse when the mount beneath him galloped forward fiercely. The Knight of Flowers' small mare, however, started her charge as smoothly as silk.
The Mountain twisted his shield into position and adjusted his lance, trying his best to make the disobedient horse run in a straight line the entire time. Suddenly... the Knight of Flowers had already charged forward, his lance striking perfectly. In the blink of an eye, the Mountain fell.
The Mountain's body was truly too massive, so he dragged his horse down with him, man and horse armor rolling in a heap.
Cheers, shouts, whistles, gasps of horror, and excited whispers immediately erupted in the arena.
The Knight of Flowers reined in his horse on the opposite side of the field, his lance not even broken. When he lifted his visor and smiled, his sapphires shimmered in the sunlight, and all the spectators went wild for him.
In the middle of the field, the Mountain finally let go of the reins and stirrups and stood up in a furious rage. He violently tore off his helmet and threw it to the ground. The Mountain's face was grim and full of anger.
The Mountain roared at his squire, "Bring me my sword!"
The small squire, holding the longsword, quickly ran forward and handed it to him. At that moment, the fallen mount also stood up.
The Mountain slew his mount with a single sword stroke, with such force that he almost completely severed the horse's head. The cheers in the arena instantly turned into screams.
The horse screamed, knelt, and died. The Mountain, gripping his dripping longsword, strode towards the Knight of Flowers on the other side.
Everything happened too fast.
The Knight of Flowers also yelled for his sword, but the Mountain pushed his squire aside and grabbed the grey mare's reins.