The old knight gazed into his cup, though what he might be looking for Dunk could not say.
""You told me your sons died fighting for the king"".
""And so they did. The rightful king, Daemon Blackfyre. The King Who Bore the Sword"". The old man's mustache quivered. ""The men of the red dragon call themselves the loyalists, but we who chose the black were just as loyal, once. Though now… all the men who marched beside me to seat Prince Daemon on the Iron Throne have melted away like morning dew. Mayhaps I dreamed them.
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Or more like, Lord Bloodraven and his Raven's Teeth have put the fear in them. They cannot all be dead"".
Dunk could not deny the truth of that. Until this moment, he had never met a man who'd fought for the Pretender. I must have, though. There were thousands of them. Half the realm was for the red dragon, and half was for the black. ""Both sides fought valiantly, Ser Arlan always said"". He thought the old knight would want to hear that.
Ser Eustace cradled his wine cup in both hands.
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""If Daemon had ridden over Gwayne Corbray… if Fireball had not been slain on the eve of battle… if Hightower and Tarbeck and Oakheart and Butterwell had lent us their full strength instead of trying to keep one foot in each camp… if Manfred Lothston had proved true instead of treacherous… if storms had not delayed Lord Bracken's sailing with the Myrish crossbowmen… if Quickfinger had not been caught with the stolen dragon's eggs… so many if s, ser… had any one come out differently, it could all have turned t'other way.
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Then we would called be the loyalists, and the red dragons would be remembered as men who fought to keep the usurper Daeron the Falseborn upon his stolen throne, and failed"".
""That's as it may be, m'lord"", said Dunk, ""but things went the way they went. It was all years ago, and you were pardoned"".
""Aye, we were pardoned. So long as we bent the knee and gave him a hostage to ensure our future loyalty, Daeron forgave the traitors and the rebels"".
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His voice was bitter. ""I bought my head back with my daughter's life. Alysanne was seven when they took her off to King's Landing and twenty when she died, a silent sister. I went to King's Landing once to see her, and she would not even speak to me, her own father. A king's mercy is a poisoned gift. Daeron Targaryen left me life, but took my pride and dreams and honor"". His hand trembled, and wine spilled red upon his lap, but the old man took no notice of it.