Conquest Year 296, King's Landing, a blacksmith's shop on the Street of Steel.
Inside a barn crowded with blazing furnaces, Gendry lifted a finished fine steel breastplate with his tongs and plunged it into cold water. A sharp hiss rose as steam burst forth, and he then set it aside to cool.
This was the task Tobho had assigned him: forging a breastplate for a client in King's Landing.
Gendry guessed that this young lord was not especially wealthy. The armor was made of fine steel, but it lacked the currently fashionable lacquered or glazed finish, let alone the most expensive technique of infusing color directly into the steel. Most likely, the buyer was a minor noble, or perhaps a noble house's bastard.
He examined the breastplate with satisfaction. It was flawless, clean, and uniform. Aside from the helmet, most of the armor was already complete.
This was the life of twelve-year-old Gendry. Hammer and flame filled his days. Thanks to his sturdy build and strength, the work itself was relatively easy for him.
Recently, Gendry had discovered that beyond Caste Fortitude, he had awakened a new Talent, also derived from the Blood of the Storm God.
["Storm's Wrath": When severely wounded or in a state of fury, unleashes even more ferocious and powerful attacks.]
Among all the weapons he had forged, Gendry liked his warhammer the most. Swords were certainly more elegant, but when it came to killing power, the warhammer was far deadlier. Blunt weapons struck over a wider surface and were far more lethal. Unless one faced Valyrian steel, their power was unmatched.
"Immersing myself in smithing isn't necessarily a bad thing. It also draws less attention," Gendry thought.
If he continued living like this, content with an ordinary life, others would gradually lose interest in him. A bastard born in a tavern settling into the life of a smith was only natural. Even those around the forge saw Gendry as nothing more than an unremarkable young smith, let alone the Spider's agents. Tobho himself had grown used to it. A smith's apprentice might earn a few extra questions, but there was nothing truly suspicious about him.
At times, the older apprentices would try to coax Gendry into visiting the flea pits to watch dogfights, cockfights, or brutal brawls between children who filed their teeth sharp. Gendry went once or twice, then never again. It was too bloody, and it cost money. As for the low-grade brothels hidden in the flea pits, the foreman strictly forbade all apprentices from entering.
Gendry rarely spent coin. Among the apprentices, he worked the hardest and produced the best results, spent the least, and saved the most. He had already begun thinking about leaving King's Landing. Next year, a grand tournament would be held for Prince Joffrey's twelfth nameday, a display of unity between House Lannister and House Baratheon. But that sort of excitement belonged to others. It had little to do with him.
King's Landing felt like a powder keg. It was better to keep one's distance.
"Should I stay in Westeros and choose another city, or cross the Narrow Sea?" Gendry weighed the two paths before him. Compared to Edric Storm, the king's bastard known throughout the realm, Gendry was far more discreet and far freer.
The Spider treated him as a piece on the board, but not an important one. With a more legitimate and highborn bastard already residing at Storm's End, Gendry was little more than a spare piece. The Spider's true schemes lay with the Targaryen remnants in his grasp, whether in the open or in the shadows.
"The world is vast once you travel far. Blood of the True Dragon, Blood of the Rhoyne… my opportunity lies in Essos," Gendry decided.
He had already settled on his escape route. First, he would lie low and make his way across to Essos.
Just as Gendry finished his work, Master Tobho Mott entered the barn carrying a silver helmet. Its beauty lay in its elegant shape, especially the seahorse motifs adorning both sides. Sea-green gemstones formed the eyes of the seahorses. It was a difficult piece, one Tobho had crafted personally.
"House Velaryon?" Gendry recognized the design at once. It represented the Velaryons of Driftmark. In the past, the lords of Driftmark had once held the title of Lords of the Tides, but the Velaryon house had long since declined. Now they were little more than a second- or third-tier house, sworn to Stannis of Dragonstone. Even so, they still carried the air of fallen nobility, and it was hard to say how sincere their allegiance truly was.
"Well done, lad," Tobho said with a nod of approval. "Your skill keeps improving. You were born for this trade."
"A plain suit of armor is worth five gold dragons," Tobho continued. "But when it comes from Tobho's smithy, it's worth ten."
The others nearby looked on with envy at Tobho's praise. Natural physique and strength were gifts from birth, and no amount of jealousy could change that.
"Back to work, all of you," Tobho barked. "Spend less time thinking about women, drink, and dice. Gendry, stay a moment."
Gendry looked at Tobho in surprise.
In the courtyard, they finally met their client. He wore sea-green robes and a silver cloak, glancing around as he waited. The colors marked him clearly as a member of House Velaryon.
"Young Master Aurane, this is the armor you ordered," Tobho said, presenting the full set to him. Fine plate armor, gorget, greaves, and a fully enclosed helm were laid out in order.
Aurane Waters was lean and well-built, with silver-gold hair and gray-green eyes. He was the bastard half-brother of Lord Montford Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Lord of Driftmark. His looks still carried traces of old Valyrian blood. It was no wonder that the Queen Dowager would later see him as a substitute for Prince Rhaegar.
"A vivid seahorse helm. Even children would want to touch it," Aurane said with clear satisfaction as he carefully inspected each piece of the armor.
"I'm glad it pleases you," Tobho replied proudly. "To be honest, even a village smith can make armor, but what I craft is art."
Aurane Waters froze for a brief moment, as if he had seen a ghost. His gaze slid past Tobho and settled on Gendry standing behind him, a trace of confusion flashing across his eyes.
"This is my apprentice," Tobho said quickly. "He works hard and learns fast." Gendry's hair was thick and coarse, black as fresh ink.
Aurane looked at Gendry for a moment, then lowered his voice. "Where are your parents, boy?"
"They're gone, my lord," Gendry said with a crooked grin.
"Come now, Lord Aurane," Tobho said hastily, laughing it off. "The boy's just unlucky. King's Landing is full of children like him." He felt he had been careless just now.
"Unlucky," Aurane murmured. "Just like me." He drew two gold dragons from inside his cloak. "One for sharing my misfortune. The other is a tip for you, boy."
Gendry hesitated and did not take the coins. "My lord, I'm an apprentice. The foreman pays me."
"Don't just stand there like a fool. Take them," Tobho urged. "It's a gift from Lord Aurane. This boy's stubborn as an ox. I can't do anything about that, so please don't take offense."
"Thank you," Gendry said, finally accepting the two gold dragons.
"All right. My squire is waiting outside," Aurane said. "Once I take the armor, I'll be heading back to Driftmark. Compared to King's Landing, I still prefer the sea breeze there." The Velaryon bastard gave Gendry one last look, then turned and left.
Gendry tucked the two gold dragons away. It seemed he could no longer remain completely unnoticed. Still, even if Aurane had realized something, he was unlikely to speak of it. Aurane was too far from real power, and there was no need for him to take such a risk.
As for the two gold dragons, they felt priceless in that moment.
A bastard's gift to another bastard.