Gendry galloped across the field on horseback, receiving the cheers of the crowd.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live King Gendry!"
Beautiful, gentle women cast flirtatious glances toward the warriors.
He was both warrior and King, a tremor of strength and power.
Gendry waved to Daenerys, who was proud of him, her silver hair and violet eyes bright and shifting.
Daenerys, in her purple gown and small crown, was also a champion of beauty.
Just below her were the red-haired, blue-eyed Sansa Stark and the brown-haired, brown-eyed Margaery Tyrell, each worthy of being called a flower of the Seven Kingdoms.
Of course, the red priestess, the Black Pearl, and Tyene of the Sand Snakes were also strikingly lovely.
Next came the foot combat and the archery contest.
The contests off horseback were just as exciting, matches of spiked maces, longswords, flails, and blunted axes.
Compared to horsemanship, foot combat was a pure clash of strength, speed, endurance, and skill.
The people of King's Landing and the knights had not seen such contests in a long time, and one by one, they found their eyes opened.
Gendry handled his blunted sword, broad and thick, while a blunted hammer had also been prepared.
Brienne also entered the contest, wrapped in intimidating blue armor, like a blue iron fist.
The heralds blew their horns excitedly, announcing the beginning of the foot combat.
"First match: Ser Lyn of House Corbray, Lord of Lady Forlorn, against Lord Jon of House Snow Stark."
The warriors first saluted the King and Queen.
"Go, Jon!" Arya Stark and Sansa Stark shouted.
The other Northmen laughed loudly as well. Though they felt the bastard was no match for Lyn the swordsman, they still shouted for him.
Lyn was like a longsword, and his opponent was the young Jon.
Ser Lyn launched ruthless sweeping cuts, blow after blow, sometimes adding shield charges to his attacks.
Jon defended while looking for chances to counter.
But Lyn's attacks were fast and fierce, and as time passed, Jon's arms grew more and more sore.
Lyn was stronger than him and more experienced. If Jon and the others had not been trained by the King, he would never have reached this level.
"Ha!"
Jon feinted at the Vale man's lower body, then swept his blade upward to attack high, a fierce forehand slash meant to smash into the Vale man's helmet.
"Bang."
Lyn's blade shifted with the motion. Jon's shield was knocked flying, and he was left dizzy from the blow.
"I yield."
Jon's blunted sword also flew from his hand, and his squire Mycah dragged him off the field.
"Lady Forlorn!"
"Lyn!"
The surrounding crowd cheered. A splendid match, a fierce swordsman.
The Vale knights laughed loudly and cheered with particular enthusiasm.
The next match was just as exciting, and the herald shouted aloud.
"Lord Bryce of House Caron, Marshal of the Marches."
"The Golden Rose of Highgarden, Ser Garlan of House Tyrell."
Lord Caron's surcoat bore the nightingale and field, while Highgarden's second son wore two golden roses on green.
"Garlan, fight for Highgarden!" Margaery shouted. The lords and knights of The Reach shouted with her.
"Caron, don't shame the Marches!" The knights and squires of the Stormlands roared and stirred up the crowd.
Steel rang out across the tournament field, blunted sword striking blunted sword.
Bryce Caron grew more surprised the longer they fought. Garlan, who rarely appeared in tournaments, was also a troublesome opponent.
Bryce swung his blunted sword with hard, powerful strokes, but his initial storm of attacks slowly began to drag down his rhythm.
Garlan defended and counterattacked. His heavy, forceful chop shook Lord Caron's shield and left Caron somewhat dazed. Then Garlan struck again and knocked Caron's blunted sword from his hand.
"You've lost, Ser."
Lord Caron could only raise his hand in surrender.
"Well fought," Great Lord Mace Tyrell said, his face full of pride.
The knights and lords of The Reach echoed him.
"Hmph."
The lords of the Stormlands were somewhat frustrated by his failure to live up to expectations.
"Lord Jason of House Mallister, from Seagard."
Lord Jason wore a winged helm, and on his deep blue shield was a silver eagle.
"Ser Harrold of House Hardyng, squire to King Gendry."
Harry the Arse put on his armor, his shield bearing his quartered family arms.
Lord Jason began a dance of steel. He was an experienced warrior, while Harrold was younger, but just as dangerous.
The two men's blunted swords came and went, leaving the crowd entranced and cheering loudly.
"Ser Harrold!"
The Vale and Crownlands men shouted for him.
"Lord Jason!"
The Riverlands men led the cheers for this rare Riverlands warrior.
Strength collided with strength, until in the end both weapons were knocked flying at the same time.
In the end, after the judges and Gendry himself made the decision, Lord Jason's stance had been steadier and he had taken less damage, so he became the victor of this bout.
"But you've improved by leaps and bounds," Gendry said to Harrold. The old Harrold would have found it hard to reach this level.
"I will keep going, Your Grace." Harrold wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and left the field.
"The light of warriors, the soul of knights, His Grace King Gendry."
"Ser Balon of House Swann, from Stonehelm on Cape Wrath, Kingsguard."
Gendry and Ser Balon entered the field together. Both men used blunted hammers, and both could be counted as masters with the weapon.
Balon was highly skilled with warhammer, spear, and bow alike.
The Storm wore brilliant gold, with quartered shields embroidered on his breast and shield, and his helmet was like a pair of huge forked horns.
"Storm!"
"Beat him!"
"Good fight!"
As steel rang between the two men, the voices of the crowd quickly rose higher and higher.
The warhammers played out a dance of force and clashing steel, the two figures attacking one another.
Gendry swung his warhammer, while Balon defended with a backhand motion.
Gendry's warhammer was larger and heavier, leaving Balon's strength unsteady and his muscles aching.
"Bang. Bang. Bang."
Under Gendry's heavy hammer blows, Balon's white shield was smashed apart inch by inch, paint and wood splinters flying.
"Oh!"
The spectators roared their approval.
Ser Balon dropped his shield, then launched a full-force counterattack, his warhammer whistling through the air.
His strength and speed were already excellent, among the best of the younger generation.
But before the King, Balon's performance seemed somewhat comical.
Gendry's hammer collided with Balon's, and Balon staggered back several steps, his footing unsteady, both arms twitching from the force of the impact.
Then came Gendry's second hammer blow. Balon blocked in haste, and his warhammer was smashed straight out of his hand, crashing into the ground and leaving a pit.
"I've lost."
The white knight immediately raised his hand in surrender and lifted his visor. His whole body ached, but fortunately his bones had not been broken.
"Well fought!"
"Well fought!"
"Long live the King!"
The people shouted for the King, though they also felt unlucky for Ser Balon. If he had not met the unbeatable King, the white knight likely had the strength to reach the final four.
"Ser Robar Royce of Runestone against Brienne of Tarth, from the Isle of Tarth."
The next to enter the field was Brienne of Tarth, another heavyweight contender, tall and broad. A woman six feet five inches tall, with broad shoulders and a powerful frame.
Loras could not help frowning. He too had once been beaten badly by Brienne, and that had been on horseback. On foot, he would have lost even more miserably.
Brienne first saluted the King and Queen. Her armor was a deep, somber blue, and she swung the blunted flail in her hand with unusual calm.
Her shield bore House Tarth's quartered sun and moon.
Robar gathered himself and drew his long-handled battleaxe. He wore silver-plated armor marked with runes.
Silver armor and blue armor tangled together as the warriors swung their weapons, like lovers kissing at a feast. But this dance was terrifying.
The long axe swept out, the chained mace whirled, and even blunted weapons gave off a frightening whistle.
Brienne's attack was blocked by Robar's shield, the shield marked with pebble runes.
"Long live the Vale!"
"Long live Tarth!"
The warriors' attacks answered those shouts. Gendry watched the rhythm of the battle and felt that Robar was more likely to lose.