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Pearse's axe knocked the petals off his golden rose； one by one； until the shield finally shattered and split。 But as it did； the axehead hung up for an instant in the wood 。 。 。 and Lord Leo's own axe crashed down on the haft of his foe's weapon； breaking it off not a foot from his hand。 He cast aside his broken shield； and suddenly he was the one on the attack。 Within moments； the harper knight was on one knee； singing his surrender。
For the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon； it was more of the same； as challengers took the field in twos and threes； and sometimes five together。 Trumpets blew； the heralds called out names； warhorses charged； the crowd cheered； lances snapped like twigs； and swords rang against helms and mail。 It was； smallfolk and high lord alike agreed； a splendid day of jousting。 Ser Humfrey Hardyng and Ser Humfrey Beesbury； a bold young knight in yellow and black stripes with three beehives on his shield； splintered no less than a dozen lances apiece in an epic struggle the smallfolk soon began calling 〃the Battle of Humfrey。〃 Ser Tybolt Lannister was unhorsed by Ser Jon Penrose and broke his sword in his fall； but fought back with shield alone to win the bout and remain a champion。 One…eyed Ser Robyn Rhysling； a grizzled old knight with a salt…and…pepper beard； lost his helm to Lord Leo's lance in their first course； yet refused to yield。 Three times more； they rode at each other； the wind whipping Ser Robyn's hair while the shards of broken lances flew round his bare face like wooden knives； which Dunk thought all the more wondrous when Egg told him that Ser Robyn had lost his eye to a splinter from a broken lance not five years earlier。 Leo Tyrell was too chivalrous to aim another lance at Ser Robyn's unprotected head； but even so Rhysling's stubborn courage （or was it folly？） left Dunk astounded。 Finally the Lord of Highgarden struck Ser Robyn's breastplate a solid thump right over the heart and sent him cartwheeling to the earth。
Ser Lyonel Baratheon also fought several notable matches。 Against lesser foes； he would often break into booming laughter the moment they touched his shield； and laugh all the time he was mounting and charging and knocking them from their stirrups。 If his challengers wore any sort of crest on their helm； Ser Lyonel would strike it off and fling it into the crowd。 The crests were ornate things； made of carved wood or shaped leather； and sometimes gilded and enameled or even wrought in pure silver； so the men he beat did not appreciate this habit； though it made him a great favorite of the mons。 Before long； only crestless men were choosing him。 As loud and often as Ser Lyonel laughed down a challenger； though； Dunk thought the day's honors should go to Ser Humfrey Hardyng； who humbled fourteen knights； each one of them formidable。
Meanwhile the Young Prince sat outside his black pavilion； drinking from his silver goblet and rising from time to time to mount his horse and vanquish yet another undistinguished foe。 He had won nine victories； but it seemed to Dunk that every one was hollow。 He is beating old men and upjumped squires； and a few lords of high birth and low skill。 The truly dangerous men are riding past his shield as if they do not see it。
Late in the day； a brazen fanfare announced the entry of a new challenger to the lists。 He rode in on a great red charger whose black bardings were slashed to reveal glimpses of yellow； crimson； and orange beneath。 As he approached the viewing stand to make his salute； Dunk saw the face beneath the raised visor； and recognized the prince he'd met in Lord Ashford's stables。
Egg's legs tightened around his neck。 〃Stop that；〃 Dunk snapped； yanking them apart。 〃Do you mean to choke me？〃
〃Prince Aerion Brightflame；〃 a herald called； 〃of the Red Keep of King's Landing； son of Maekar Prince of Summerhall of House Targaryen； grandson to Daeron the Good； the Second of His Name； King of the Andals； the Rhoynar； and the First Men； and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms。〃
Aerion bore a three…headed dragon on his shield； but it was rendered in colors much more vivid than Valarr's； one head was orange； one yellow； one red； and the flames they breathed had the sheen of gold leaf。 His surcoat was a swirl of smoke and fire woven together； and his blackened helm was surmounted by a crest of red enamel flames。
After a pause to dip his lance to Prince Baelor； a pause so brief that was almost perfunctory； he galloped to the north end of the field； past Lord Leo's pavilion and the Laughing Storm's； slowing only when he approached Prince Valarr's tent。 The Young Prince rose and stood stiffly beside his shield； and for a moment Dunk was certain that Aerion meant to strike it 。 。 。 but then he laughed and trotted past； and banged his point hard against Ser Humfrey Hardyng's diamonds。 〃e out； e out； little knight；〃 he sang in a loud clear voice； 〃it's time you faced the dragon。〃
Ser Humfrey inclined his head stiffly to his foe as his destrier was brought out； and then ignored him while he mounted； fastened his helm； and took up lance and shield。 The spectators grew quiet as the two knights took their places。 Dunk heard the clang of Prince Aerion dropping his visor。 The horn blew。
Ser Humfrey broke slowly； building speed； but his foe raked the red charger hard with both spurs； ing hard。 Egg's legs tightened again。 〃Kill him！〃 he shouted suddenly。 〃Kill him； he's right there； kill him； kill him； kill him！〃 Dunk was not certain which of the knights he was shouting to。
Prince Aerion's lance； gold…tipped and painted in stripes of red； orange； and yellow； swung down across the barrier。 Low； too low； thought Dunk the moment he saw it。 He'll miss the rider and strike Ser Humfrey's horse； he needs to bring it up。 Then； with dawning horror； he began to suspect that Aerion intended no such thing。 He cannot mean to 。 。 。
At the last possible instant； Ser Humfrey's stallion reared away from the oning point； eyes rolling in terror； but too late； Aerion's lance took the animal just above the armor that protected his breastbone； and exploded out of the back of his neck in a gout of bright blood。 Screaming； the horse crashed sideways； knocking the wooden barrier to pieces as he fell。 Ser Humfrey tried to leap free； but a foot caught in a stirrup and they heard his shriek as his leg was crushed between the splintered fence and falling horse。
All of Ashford Meadow was shouting。 Men ran onto the field to extricate Ser Humfrey； but the stallion； dying in agony； kicked at them as they approached。 Aerion； having raced blithely around the carnage to the end of the lists； wheeled his horse and came galloping back。 He was shouting too； though Dunk could not make out the words over the almost human screams of the dying horse。 Vaulting from the saddle； Aerion drew his sword and advanced on his fallen foe。 His own squires and one of Ser Humfrey's had to pull him back。 Egg squirmed on Dunk's shoulders。 〃Let me down；〃 the boy said。 〃The poor horse； let me down。〃
Dunk felt sick himself。 What would I do if such a fate befell Thunder？ A man…at…arms with a pole…axe dispatched Ser Humfrey's stallion； ending the hideous screams。 Dunk turned and force