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“I am sure Ser Hightower is perfectly capable of escorting me up the Roseroad,” you say, implying your preferences without giving slight to the other martial men present. The knights seem surprised at your suggestion, Ser Leo more so than the others. Compared to the other knights, he is dressed more for court than the road. And yet he is not without a sword hanging off his belt. You will be kind and assume this is out of humility rather than a sign of a knight lax in his duties. If nothing else, he at least seemed diligent in his work.
You have had a lifetime of posturing boys boasting of their dangerousness. Even those vile sellswords had their swagger about them. You find it all to be so tiresome. Now, you seek only the quiet companionship of a good honest man. Not that you can be sure this knight fits that description. A lady must work with what is presented.
“Right. You’re up to the task, lad?” Ser Cuy asks.
“I suppose I must defer to your judgement, ser,” Ser Leo Hightower begrudgingly agrees with his superior before turning to regard you. “On my honor as a knight, I will see you safely onto Grassy Vale, my lady.”
“Good enough for me. Take of one my horses for her. The palfrey would do. I will be wanting her back. She was a gift from my boy,” Ser Cuy says.
You end up having to wait a short while at the tavern while Ser Leo sees to preparations. Ser Cuy makes for a less than enthusiastic conversation partner. He pays more mind to his ale, only periodically asking after details of Tyrosh. You mentioned in passing the gossip your wanton cousin Ellyn spoke of the Tyroshi feud with Lys. The old knight found this to be of far greater interest, but he sunk back into his cups when you proved to know little more than rumors. He spared more attentions for the full-figured barmaid, a woman closer to him in age than to you. From there, you must admit you turned to brooding. It is beyond you why men raised with knightly virtues cannot keep to their wives. It also reminded you too much of that mustachioed sellsword, Harlor you think he was called, and his lechery with the innkeep.
