[water babbling]
[birdsong]
[light snoring]
[imitating horse snorting]
- [♪ string music playing] - [horse squealing]
- Easy, boy.
[♪ dramatic string music continues playing]
- [birdsong] - [water lapping]
- [neighing] - Come on!
Just run!
- Move. - [horse neighing]
You're stubborn as old iron.
He's twice the size of your last rider,
and the field could be just like this or worse,
so you best get your feet under you.
[nickering]
My father told me you should never talk to a horse.
He said they're dumber than dogs
and only understand the crop.
[snuffling]
[sighs] But I don't think that's true.
I think a horse doesn't want to be ordered about
any more than a man does.
Ser Duncan only has us.
And if he loses, he won't even have that.
I can get the weapon in his hand...
- somehow. - [nickering]
But then, it's up to you.
Hyah! Go!
[splatting]
[neighing]
[♪ dramatic string music playing]
Hyah! Yah!
Not bad.
Ha! Go!
Go, Thunder!
[sheep bleating]
Ser Duncan, take it.
Ha! Go, Thunder!
[horse neighing]
Take it quick, Ser Duncan.
Go, Thunder!
- [horse neighing] - [Egg] Whoo!
Come on!
Whoo!
Good boy. Good boy, Thunder.
- Good boy. - [Thunder nickering]
You steal that horse?
Tell the truth. We'll be fair.
It's not stealing if you mean to put it back.
[Thunder whinnying]
[Egg shushing]
What's wrong with your hair?
What's wrong with your eye?
[horse whinnying]
[crowd groaning]
Ahh!
[shouting]
You're Ser Robyn Rhysling.
You're the maddest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.
We are a vessel for the Warrior.
When it is madness bid, it is madness delivered.
You're small for a squire.
I serve Ser Duncan the Tall.
He's large enough for the both of us.
- We've not heard of him. - You will.
[birdsong]
[Thunder neighing]
Where have you been?
[Egg] Training.
Don't wander off without telling me.
What are you doing, Ser?
- Sewing a patch. - Is that not my job?
You know how?
Then quit jawing and get the brushes.
Thunder looks like he's been dragged through a hedge.
What about breakfast?
There's salt beef after you're done.
I'd sooner eat the horse, ser.
You'll eat my fist if you don't do as you're told.
Never mind that.
Yeah. Yeah, just like that.
Keep it as close to the edge as possible.
And that's your whipstitch.
How'd you get it so even?
Just, like-- just practice.
Just try again.
- There. - Yes!
- Ser? - Mm-hmm?
Is it odd that I have black hair growing out of my stones?
It's odd that you're telling me.
[singing] ♪ Prince Baelor was the first born ♪
♪ Prince Maekar sprang out last ♪
- [Dunk retching] - ♪ Daemon was the bastard, so they kicked his bastard ♪
♪ Grass is green in summer, green grass I adore ♪
- [Dunk vomiting] - ♪ But grass is red all over when you kill a rebel ♪
- ♪ Horses die in battle ♪ - [Drunk groaning]
♪ This battle was the front ♪
♪ Blackfyre's not a trueborn, he came from the wrong ♪
♪ Country was in peril, The Anvil was a rock ♪
♪ The Hammer smashed the bastard with his giant veiny ♪
- ♪ Host of Dornish spearmen ♪ - It's time.
- Fetch my armor. - Now?
Aye, now.
[Egg] Why?
Because I mean to enter the lists.
You don't have your shield.
[sheep bleating]
We'll-- yeah, we'll gather it along the way.
- [sniffling] - Mm-hmm.
Also, the right of the first challenge
goes to knights of high birth and renown.
Are you a knight of high birth and renown, ser?
Wait, so I-- I cannot enter the lists today?
[Egg] Not today, ser, no.
Only knights of high birth and renown.
Then why have I been vomiting all morning?
It's a mystery.
[goose honking]
[Dunk] No, no, no, no, no.
Um, uh, goose eggs.
Just-- just the eggs.
No, no, no, uh...
Shit, um, goose eggs, like...
- Just the... - [townsfolk chattering]
Thank you.
Do you like goose eggs?
Your shield will be ready this evening, ser.
Th-Thank you.
[donkey braying]
[rooster crowing]
- [Egg] Ooh, ooh! Ooh! - Shut up.
[♪ soft music playing]
[♪ cheerful whistling]
[Egg] Mm!
Mm!
[crowd roaring]
Come on!
- Come on! Whoo! - Whoo!
- Why not? - Come on!
[laughing]
[coughing]
[jouster shouting]
- [crowd roaring] - Come on!
Whoo!
[applause]
[mimicking Dunk] Do you want some hard salt beef?
[in high-pitched voice] Oh, I'm Egg. I can't eat hard salt beef.
I just eat lovely food and grapes and all the...
[babbling]
Can't even drink a pint of ale.
Yeah, 'cause it's disgusting.
- It's not disgusting. - Yes, it is disgusting.
- It's not disgusting. - It's disgusting.
Well, then I won't buy you another one.
- Good. - [sighs]
[Egg] I think I could be quite happy in a place like this.
[Dunk] You're in a place like this.
- I meant for a while. - Ah, yeah.
[Egg] After I lead a great campaign for my lord, of course.
Of course.
I return a war hero and he gives me
a parcel of land for my very own,
and the hand of his second most beautiful daughter.
Second most?
Well, you've already married the first most.
Have you not, ser?
[crowd cheering in distance]
[Egg] I'd keep horses, plant oats and peas.
- Raise cows. - And lambs, perhaps.
- Fuck your lambs. - [chuckles]
Did you really ride all the way here
in the back of some farmer's wagon?
I don't want to talk about it.
[snickering]
I'll say this for you.
You're a good worker when you put your mind to it.
Think so?
Mm-hmm.
Does that mean I can stay on as your squire
after the tournament?
If I lose my first joust,
I'll scarcely be a knight after the tournament.
But if you win?
If I win...
If I win, you can--
Ser Duncan?
A word, if you please.
[hocking phlegm]
[spitting]
Is there an issue with my entry?
Hm? Oh, no. No, I, uh...
I only wanted to show you a new fishing spot I'm keen on.
Uh, Ser Duncan,
I believe we are both men of honor.
So, I hope you understand that what I ask
serves no private interest.
Might it surprise you to learn that my Lord Ashford
has richly overspent on his daughter's pageant?
- It might not. - Mm.
Well, with winter not so long past,
and many of our flocks collapsed,
hard times lay ahead.
Unless we endeavor to reverse our fortunes.
[sighs]
I-- I don't have any money, I...
Shocking, that may be,
I mean not to rob you, but to reward you.
- [scoffs] Reward me? - Aye.
What do you know of Lord Ashford's youngest,
Sir Androw?
[crashing]
[crowd cheering]
He-- he's a deft lance.
- Indeed, indeed. - Mm.
But were a challenger to come forth
and unhorse Ser Androw, against all odds,
the lucky few who backed such an unlikely winner
would find their pockets full.
Now, now, rest assured.
Rest assured, I mean no disrespect.
I ask only what you already intend.
Drive your foe from his saddle
and take your place on champion's row.
I do not want a victory that I have not earned.
Have you not earned it?
Let Ser Androw take the fall,
and you shall have his horse, arms,
and armor as recompense for your role.
A tidy sum for a young hedge knight
who presently calls an alder tree home.
It's an elm.
[whispering] Elm.
I beg you, think on it.
I shall seek your answer on the morrow.
Perhaps the rains will hold till then.
Mind your pride, Ser Duncan.
[hocking, spitting]
- [water babbling] - [birdsong]
[sighs]
[horn blowing]
[herald] Son of Meakar,
grandson to King Daeron the Good
and Prince of House Targaryen,
Prince Aerion Brightflame.
[cheering and applause]
[horn blowing]
Hyah!
- [cheering and applause] - [metal clanging]
[Aerion Targaryen] Cousin.
[horns blaring, drums beating]
Not to worry. I won't embarrass you today.
Come out, come out, little knight.
It's time you faced the dragon.
- [grunting] Hyah! - [cheering and applause]
[horse whinnying]
[shouting]
[cheering and applause continue]
[horse neighing]
[neighing]
[snorting]
[thunder rumbling]
- [jousters] Hyah! - [cheering and applause]
Kill him. Kill him!
[crowd] Aww!
[crowd booing]
[horse neighing]
[Aerion exclaiming]
Lance!
Go!
He's too low.
[horse squealing]
- [screaming] - [crowd groaning]
[groaning]
[groaning continues]
[crowd clamoring]
[clamoring continues]
♪
[horse neighing]
[clamoring continues]
[horse squealing]
- I want to leave. - Aye.
[axe thudding]
[thunder rumbling]
That was a terrible sight.
But a squire must be strong.
A mishap may befall me, and I'll need you
to keep your wits if it does.
That was no mishap.
[thunder rumbling]
The jousting is done for the day, I think.
Come, lad.
[singing] ♪ Oh! Alice was a special lass ♪
♪ Born bereft 'er thumb ♪
♪ Lost a digit tending flock, now feeling awfully glum ♪
♪ Oh! Alice with three fingers ♪
♪ A copper in her glass ♪
♪ Had two fingers less than most ♪
♪ She'll shove them up your arse, hey! ♪
♪ I once gave her a silver, feeling down and lone ♪
♪ I tried to buy a pinky, but I got the whole arm bone ♪
♪ Oh! Alice with three fingers never had a lot ♪
♪ She gave me all she had to give ♪
♪ Two more than what was sought ♪
♪ Oh! Two more than what I bought ♪
[all cheering]
Do you suppose there was an Alice, ser?
A crippled girl who shoved her hand up men's arses?
I think there probably was.
Of course, there probably was.
Do you think her name was really Alice?
Mm, no. I just think Alice
is a nice name to write a song to.
That means there was a cripple girl
who was so good at pleasuring men in their bums
that they saw fit to celebrate her in song,
yet they could not bother credit her true name?
If there's a lesson in that,
it's for wiser men than me to say.
Perhaps it is a story of honor.
Honor?
A misfortuned girl making the best of her natural gifts.
One might wish for more.
But is this not the act of a dogged spirit?
Giving more than what is asked?
"The whole arm bone," as it were.
Perhaps her name does not matter, then.
It's-- it's her story that abides.
Her name is Hope, ser.
Belongs to all who invoke it.
[singing] ♪ Oh! Alice was a special lass ♪
♪ Born bereft 'er thumb ♪
♪ She lost a digit tending flock ♪
♪ And now she's awfully-- ♪
- [chicken bawking] - [donkey braying]
[Dunk] Did you ever know your father, Egg?
[Egg] Mm, uh...
No. Not really.
Most like I saw mine hanged.
There was a pot shop in Flea Bottom.
I used to sell them rats and cats and pigeons for brown.
Cook there always said my father was some thief.
If he was as big as me,
he wouldn't have made a very good one.
[townsfolk chattering]
Say your fortune.
Oh, yeah. Go on, then.
You shall know great success and be richer than a Lannister.
Thank you. Do the boy now.
You shall be king...
and die in a hot fire,
and worms shall feed upon your ashes.
And all who know you shall rejoice in your dying.
What?
[laughing] Thank you, that's very good.
Why would she say that?
Why would she say what? Come on.
Ser Duncan!
I saw you earlier with this boy.
Uh, yeah. This boy is my squire.
Egg, this is, um, Raymun Fossoway.
- Good day. - [people cheering in distance]
See our show! It's great!
Will you join me in my tent for a cup of cider?
I could wait at the puppet show, ser,
and bring your shield when the performance is over.
We make it ourselves.
Very well.
[people laughing and applauding in distance]
[Raymun Fossoway] Have you chosen an opponent yet?
[Dunk] Oh, uh, I'm not sure.
[liquid sloshing]
Who does your cousin mean to challenge?
[chuckles] If anyone's wounded on the morrow...
I'm sure Steffon will be quick to knock on his shield.
He's about as chivalrous as a starved weasel.
[grunting, sighing]
I suppose Ser Androw and I are quite equally matched.
A local favorite. You mean to play the villain?
[chuckles]
I heard Aerion were in a spittin' rage at Lord Ashford
for giving away his horse.
Little comfort that will be to Ser Humfrey.
It looked as if he was going to carry the day.
Now his leg's shattered like a baking dish.
My squire thinks Aerion meant to kill the horse. [chuckles]
Just hard to accept that a knight
might be so dishonorable...
let alone a prince.
Why is that hard?
N-No, I--
They're incestuous aliens, Duncan.
Blood-magickers and tyrants who've burned our lands,
enslaved our people,
dragged us into their wars without a mote of respect
for our history or our customs.
Every pale-haired brat they saddled on us
has been madder than the last, gods know how.
The only honorable thing a Targaryen
can do for this realm is finish on his wife's tits.
So aye, I think he meant to kill the fucking horse.
[Raymun sighs]
I got a bit carried away there.
[chuckles]
I heard that part about the tits from Steffon.
[belching]
[belching softly] Excuse me.
[audience chattering]
- [dragon hissing] - [audience exclaiming]
[audience gasps]
Wow.
[applause]
[dragon hissing]
[squealing]
[dragon thuds]
[both laughing]
[both sighing]
Aerion, he's all smiles and chivalry
as long as his father's watching.
I saw Prince Maekar's chair was empty.
He left Ashford this morning
to search for the rest of his misbegats.
Misbegats? W-Which are those?
His heir, Daeron, and the youngest.
They departed Summerhall together a few days ago,
but never reached Ashford.
There's rumors going about that the boys are dead.
Though most like Daeron,
he's probably just drunk again.
Little wonder Maekar's been walking around
like someone pissed in his swan pie.
He's probably just worried about his sons.
Seven know why.
Daeron's a sot. Aerion's just vain and cruel.
The third's so useless, they were gonna ship him off
to a citadel to make a maester of him.
- And the youngest-- - Ser! Ser Duncan! You have to come!
- Aerion's hurting her. - Hurting who?
[crowd clamoring]
- Stay back! - [clamoring continues]
[dog barking]
[screaming]
- [bone snapping] - [screaming]
[Tanselle continues screaming]
- [grunting] - [soldier] Hold still!
Hold on!
[Dunk breathing heavily]
[spitting]
Why did you throw your life away for this whore?
She's scarcely worth it.
She's a traitor.
The dragon ought never lose.
Nothing more to say?
[sniffling] You've loosened one of my teeth.
So, we'll start by breaking out all of yours.
[grunting]
[shouting]
[muffled shouting]
[Egg] No! Don't touch him!
- Ah... - [Dunk] You stupid boy!
Hold your tongue or they'll hurt you.
- No, they won't. - [Raymun] Watch out, please.
- Excuse me. - If they do, they'll answer to my father.
Let go of him!
Wate, Yorkel, do as I say.
You impudent little rat. What's happened to your hair?
I cut it off, brother. I didn't want to look like you.
[♪ dramatic choral music playing]
♪
[♪ dramatic choral music continues playing]