Page 284: Eschaton Of Stonebridge
Eschaton of Stonebridge
Summary: The judicial duel between Sers Gedeon Tordane and Rygar Nayland.
Date: 29/04/289
Related Logs: Way too many to list.
Anais Anneke Anton Briallyn Danae Desmond Garett GedeonT Jarod Justin Kamron Katrin Kell Kittridge Marsden Martyn Muirenn Rafferdy Rebekkah Riordan Roland Roric Roslyn Rowan Rygar Saffron Tiaryn Valda 
The Stone Bridge - Stonebridge
An ancient bridge crafted of shaped stone, built in the long lost days of the River Kings. Narrow- only wide enough for a single large wagon at a time- it is of double arched construction, leaving a lane to either side of the river's center for boats and barges to pass beneath. This bridge marks the furthest point upriver which a masted vessel can reach. The best crossing between Seagard and the Twins, the bridge is well worn, with the newest addition being a row of six pikes mounted into the arch of the bridge, each displaying the tarred heads of Ironborn raiders.
29 April, 289 A.L.

(Streamlined log of just the combat here)

The appointed day has dawned and drawn to its zenith. The namesake masonry of Stonebridge is the center of great attention, as many folk- small and great, alike- have gathered to watch the contest between incipient crane and insolent harpy. To the east is the camp of Ser Gedeon, called by some Tordane, and others Rivers, beneath a newly made gold crane on green of House Tordane. To the west is Ser Rygar, with his squire bearing aloft the cadet standard of Nayland: the orange field marked by the white harpy above a green chevron, all within a gold border.

To the west, with helm carried under one arm until the duel's commencement, so that none may mistake him for any other man, Rygar observes the elaborate ritual of the judicial duel playing out as the Seconds of the two duelists meet at the center of the bridge, in the formal last effort to diffuse the challenge without violence. Ser Anton Valentin walks forward for Gedeon, while an aged knight under the Erenford colors stands forward for Rygar.

A rather odd couple stands here among the observers, having recently arrived. Riordan Nayland, Regent of Stonebridge, dressed in the colors of the Nayland cadet house, walks alongside the Castellan of Stonebridge, Valda Tordane. Nearby are their escort of guardsman dressed in colors similar to Riordan, though for now these men seem just as eager as the rest to observe this most momentous of occasions. The small band arrived with little in the way of fanfare. For once, Riordan arrived without jokes, or a boyish smile. He simply arrived, eyes searching out those already gathered, his expression subdued.

Lord Ser Anton Valentin cuts a somewhat more imposing figure than the knight he backs today, and rather than his own phoenix and portcullis he bears the red and green of House Tordane to the bridge for his former squire. He speaks with the Erenford knight who stands for Ser Rygar, though neither look as if they have any expectation of their 'negotiation' successfully preventing the duel.

Kamron is quite clearly -not- anyone's second. No point in riling up Ser Rygar more than necessary. In fact, he's not even carrying any weapons besides a simple dirk. He is, however, on the east bank of the bridge, wearing mourning black as is the current Mallister and Terrick standard. His squire, Percival Ryger stands behind him, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Kam himself stands firm, looking short and broad beside his stretched-out squire.

Clad in Green and Yellow of Tordane, the bald half septon cuts an impressive figure. True to protocol, he is dressed in His Lord's colors and as a man of his dubious station would be. Armed though a peace band is wrapped at the top of the spear, mingled with crane feathers. Eyes are focused to the center and then to his Lord. A quiet prayer is muttered as his idle hand clutches his prayer chord.

Pale and gilded in the colours of the Westerling house, Danae stands on the edge of the field that is to be the space for the duel. Beyond the gold of her hair and touches of embroidery on her gown, the lady wears no colour save for the pale blue of her eye, blonde hair twisted back and secured with pearly clasps. She stands a significant distance from the Nayland Regent, near the half-septon, blue eyes solemnly observing the combatants and occasionally commenting to her companion.

Among the many gathered, a man wearing indigo and black with a touch of golden threadwork has found himself a decent position from which to watch the coming duel. Justin Terrick as yet stands alone without others of his House around him, hands loosely hooked into his sword belt as he leans against a low stone wall leading up to the bridge. Justin is perhaps not far from Ser Kamron, grey eyes watchful of the events about to unfold.

Blending in with the peasants and commoners who have come to watch is Rafferdy, dressed in the plain brown leathers that allow him to go unnoticed amongst such crowds. He's unarmed, and just quietly watching with the other small folk.

For once sticking close to her brother for this more martial affair, Rosanna has slipped her hand into the crook of Kittridge's elbow as they approach the gathering. "Look, there's Lady Danae," she tells him, tugging him along in that direction. She's in charge, right?

The Lady Dowager Rebekkah Nayland is in attendance. In style. She's come in an orange-curtained palanquin, stacked inside with cushions for her comfort, carried on the shoulders of a small team of Nayland servants. Her bearers will probably get tired if this drags on too long, but she doesn't seem to be making any accommodations for their comfort. So presumably they can lump it. She's dressed in a deep crimson dressing gown with black embroidery down the hem done cunningly in the shapes of dragons, and despite her age her blue eyes are pure steel this day. She's positioned not far from the Regent of Stonebridge, curtains thrown back so she can observe what comes, for good or ill.

Kittridge Groves escorts his sister, his expression somewhat grimmer than the merry demeanor he has generally worn of late. He carries a wine glass in one hand, the skin dangling from a strap over his shoulder as they walk. He eyes the crowd as he takes a drink, and then follows Rosanna's indication, nodding, "So it is." He doesn't seem to mind being directed towards the Westerling, bowing elegantly in greeting, without spilling so much as a drop, "Lady Danae."

Valda's kid-gloved hand is upon Riordan's arm. She is dressed entirely in Tordane colors, including a slim gold headpiece inset with emeralds to stand out in her jet black upswept hair. Within the group of men-at-arms following the pair are several in her House colors, rather than those of Nayland. Her face is stoic as ever, cerulean eyes a bit darker than usual — some might say clouded. She speaks not a word to her escort as she takes in the gathering crowd.

When she sees Rebekkah, the Castellan offers a respectful dip of her head. Shallower ones are offered to others she recognizes. Yet it is clear her attention is focused upon the area which will be the field of battle, awaiting the duelists.

At first, it would be hard to place the Lady Roslyn to any house or another, rarely ventured far from her home to make much of an impression. She does not wear Nayland colors, despite the Nayland look about her. Her cloak is made of soft grey wool lined in white rabbit, closed tightly around her slim throat and leaving little beneath to be seen as it falls heavy over her body. She wears no smile and no jewelry, but she stands near the Lady Dowager's palanquin, though a half-pace behind the woman herself in deference to her stature. Calm, still, her eyes draw to the Lord Regent and the Lady Valda, lingering on the former for a moment.

Perhaps cutting the least impressive figure of all the figures that are cut is Ser Gedeon. He has achieved a banner, but no tabard of the proper colors, so the man stands only in silvery maile, metal cap tucked under one arm, coif dangling down the back of his neck. Besides the banner, the only other colors that mark him is the green belonging the the sheath of his sword and the yellow and green stones that wink from that blade's pommel: the weapon the very same one used by Geoffrey Tordane while he lives. He's attentive, calm, holding his place to the east as the seconds go through the show of seeking a peaceful resolution.

Jarod makes his way through the crowd, in the company of a slender, dark-haired woman who bears a striking resemblance to she who once was called Rowan Nayland. For his part he's dressed non-descriptly, in a green tunic and dark trousers, boots minus any spurs. Though he still carries his longsword. He spots Kamron and Justin and, though he doesn't really approach them, he edges through the gathering throng to try and position himself near them. Presumably that's a reasonably Tordane-friendly section.

Strawberry-colored hair catch and reflect sunlight, and the gold and silver ribbons woven into the plaits adding a touch more glimmer into the locks. Saffron stands just off the right to Ser Kamron with her guards Timmen and Punbah just behind the pair—the former all tall and thin and the latter squat and fat. She has her left arm straight and loose at her side, while her right twists behind her to claps the opposite elbow; it is a childish stance, but something familiar and comforting as she detects the slight tension beginning to form. She looks to the side at Justin, nodding her head gently in greeting before she turns her gaze back out toward the duel. Her pale eyes are wide and attentive.

Also dressed in black like his cousin, Martyn makes his way through the crowd to join Kamron now, as he looks between the others present at the moment. Studying the crowd more than the people going to be doing the fighting at the moment, and otherwise keeping silent. Nodding a bit absently to those nearby at the moment.

Standing amongst the crowd is the small form of Lady Katrin Haigh, flanked by her Septa and maid. Behind them is a guardsman whose height soars high above all three women. She takes a slow step forward to have a better view, though does not make an approach toward any particular person in the crowd.

"Lord Kittridge, Lady Rosanna," Danae greets warmly, sweeping her skirts back with a gentle hand as she curtsies. "Please, join me," she offers, gesturing the position her attendant had previously stood, the fellow slipping back to guard his lady. "A lovely day with a dire outcome, is it not?"

Lord Roric Westerling arrives in his usual attire, trailed by his usual guard. He looks upon the impending event and crowd curiously, taking a strategic spot on the edge of the event with a good view.

His guardsman carries a completely disinterested expression, however, while he carries a chair on his back. He wordlessly places the chair down on the spot Roric picks, where the Westerling then sits himself comfortably while the guardsman offers him a skin of wine.

"Lady Danae," Rosanna greets in turn with a quick curtsy. "Have you ever seen its like?" she says, her voice pitched a bit lower for once in deference to the weight of the day.

Promising to be a rather large and important event which the outcome will be affecting the Cape of the Eagles, Kell has made his way to Stonebridge after spending most of his time at the Roost since returning from the Iron Islands. He has no squire or companions as he arrives to the site of the duel and his sword is belted at the side, signifying that the man has the position of a knight. For now, he seems to be looking for an open area where he can view the duel between Rygar and Gedeon unrestricted.

"No, I have not my dear," Danae replies softly with a slight shake of her fair head. "This is to be a thing that shall be spoken for for a long while, I should think."

More somber than her usual self, the Lady Briallyn Haigh arrives at the field wordlessly and without making a point of joining anyone particular. Dressed in russet and gold brocaded in black thread, the young woman has a firm grasp upon her companion's arm even as her dark green eyes, so often scouring her surroundings, remain downcast on the ground beneath her slippered feet.

Riordan's gaze lingers on this or that person on the crowd, from the two opponents, to the negotiators, to the observers. So it likely goes unnoticed at least by most when his eyes linger on the Westerling lady. Solemn expression growing momentarily tighter, Riordan turns his eyes closer to home. It is then he realizes that he has yet to properly greet his grandmother. "Lady Grandmother," he offers, moving closer to the palanquin should Valda allow, so that he may place a kiss on Rebekkah's withered cheek. "You remember the Lady Valda Tordane, I trust?" he inquires. It is then he spots the young lady nearby. Despite everything, the Regent's expression clears for a moment. "Roslyn, sister, I did not look for you today. I am glad you came," he says in quiet yet heartfelt tones, and shall reach out to take her hand and give it a squeeze, if she will allow. "Lady Valda, might I present my sister, the Lady Roslyn. Roslyn, this is the Lady Valda, Castellan of stonebridge."

Justin returns the strawberry blonde's nod, "Lady Saffron, Lord Kamron," even as Maryn and Jarod with Rowan approach. He shifts his position to walk a few steps closer to where they are that he might more easily be within conversational distance. Justin looks out over the folk gathering, studying some of them and trying to place them. Hre recognizes some in Nayland colors even if he must guess at who they might be, "Is that one there with the dark haired Tordane woman, is that Lord Riordan with … " can't be Isolde, "Lady Valda?" He does not sound certain.

"Judicial duels to decide who holds a holding don't happen every decade," Kittridge replies, adding, "Thank the Seven." He takes another sip of wine, and then asks, "Would you care for a drink, Lady?" politely gesturing towards Danae, I believe I have another glass." He is apparently serious.

Marsden glances, looking the crowd over for someone as hos prayer chord falls slack at his hip. careful to hedge his way about it seems the Half septon is coming to flank at Danae and then lean on his spear. "Pardon Lady." he states before shifting a little. I need a better view. Is it fine for me here?" Brow raised.

To the surprise of none, after a brief exchange between the older Erenford and the Knight of Oldstones, the two part with token courtesies obeyed and return to the men they had spoken for. Ser Bannon Erenford speaks simply to his former squire: "The formalities have been obeyed, Ser. Gods be with you."

A curt nod from Rygar in response and the Erenford steps past his former student. The stern Nayland spares barely a sidelong glance for his Second, as his eye remains fixed upon the knight standing across the bridge: Gedeon Rivers, called by some Tordane. Drawing a deep breath, the Nayland voices- his words pitched to carry, "Ser Gedeon Rivers. I, Rygar of House Nayland, name you a traitor to the Realm in the eyes of Gods and Men." The words are rote, the statement of charges, before the duel. "I stand ready to defend the truth of these words with my life."

Ser Garett Westerling, the stony-faced Knight is the companion that Briallyn's arm holds onto his. Dressed in colors of faded yellow and black, he is wordless as usual, a stalwart constant next to his more often razor-witted betrothed. But like any other day, he has nothing to say, and his hardened gaze tends to falls on faces of people he knows, but more of less there appear to be more important things on his mind.

"Certainly not," Rosanna agrees with Kittridge, her gaze flicking between him and Danae. "It's sort of exciting, isn't it? I mean — in an awful sort of way."

Kamron glances over at the motion of Jarod's approach, blinking once at the woman alongside him, and then offering a smile. Turning to Saffron, he gestures toward the pair, starting to move in that direction with a welcoming gesture. As he approaches, theoretically with the Banefort alongside him, "Lady Saffron, have you met Ser Jarod Rivers and," he offers a crooked smile to Rowena, "I believe this to be Rowena Nayland." For all that they've met under her other guise, the Mallister man bows slightly, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rowena. I'm Kamron Mallister."

Rebekkah extends her withered cheek to accept Riordan's deference of affection, though she doesn't seem to take the pleasure she usually does in forcing her grandchildren to defer to her. "Lady Valda. Of course. I'm very glad to see you here, Riordan. As is proper for a regent of his holding." She settles back on her cushions with those pleasantries exchanged, beady blue eyes focused on the coming combatants.

A smile quirking her lips, Danae regards Kittridge and then the wine in turn, although the latter gets a somewhat more longing glance than the former. "Thank the Seven. Very much, my Lord Kittridge — but I think it is best that I keep my wits about me," she says softly, shaking her head slightly. At the half-septon's address, the lady turns towards him and simply inclines her head in a short gracious nod. Hello. "Of course." She looks back to Rosanna with a smile, slipping her arm companionably through the younger girls. "The very things bards sing of, dear Lady. More awful to be witnessed than heard. "

Valda offers a small curtsey now that she is formally brought before the Lady Dowager. "It is good to see you again, my lady," she intones. In a similarly formal tone, she inclines her head to Roslyn. "An honor to meet you, my lady." Yet her gaze is half upon the happenings at the bridge, so that the moment the seconds head back to their knights, she turns to fully face the Stone Bridge. Her closed-off expression makes it clear she invites no further conversation during this event.

As he is summoned, so Ser Gedeon, whatever his last name may be, steps forward. His chin is lifted and his voice is sure and clear as he calls back the required response to such a challenge. "I, Gedeon Tordane, declare my innocence in the eyes of Gods and men. I stand ready to defend the truth of these words with my life."

"Riordan," Roslyn murmurs quietly as his attention turns to her, cool fingers clasping tightly for a moment as her demeanor softens with only the bare touch of a smile before her fingers slip away. "I have come only to attend to our Lady Grandmother." Where Valda addresses her, she lowers into a graceful sweep that sees her head bent prettily, answering quickly, "Thank you, my lady."

Rafferdy's eyes narrow just a bit as he sees Rowenna. He watches her for a long moment, and then looks away, but finds his eyes then fall on his other sister, Roslyn. He stares at her, as well, uncertain if it's actually her of not, before returning his attention to the duel beginning.

Kamron also nods to Justin as the man speaks up, "Lord Justin," and gestures him along with himself and the Banefort.

"I don't suppose we'll be in any of the songs," Rosanna says in a musing tone. She cants her head as she turns her gaze back to the proceedings, watching the seconds curiously.

Saffron tilts her head toward Justin as he speaks, and she gives the smallest shrug of her shoulders—which Mistress Morla would be having fits over, but she's not here, is she? Though her gaze turns slowly toward Jarod and Rowena, and both are given gentle nods of her head and she brightens as best she can muster with a small smile. "A pleasure met, Ser Jarod, and the same Lady Rowena."

"Not in less you've got something ridiculous planned you haven't mentioned to me yet," Kittridge says dryly to his sister. "And as you like, Lady," he adds to Danae, "I am sure we will all be even more in need of a drink afterwards, one way or another. It will keep til then."

Marsden nods once in thanks, before the scarred man eyes Lord Kittridge. A bit of recognition flickers and The Lord gets a brief nod as well.

Martyn shakes his head a little bit as he listens to the others, offering a bit of a grin. "People," he greets Kamron, Justin Jarod and the others. "This looks to be an interesting event," he comments, a bit quietly.

Lord Ser Anton nods politely to the Erenford and heads back towards Gedeon, turning to watch closely as he and Rygar exchange words, sharp gaze sweeping the Nayland party and all those in the first rows of the audience carefully.

Riordan inclines his head to Rebekkah's words, but does not respond to her observance. Instead, he looks once more to his sister. "Of course. I hope your duties will you time to linger before you must head back to the Mire. My visit the other day was all too brief, and I would have dine with you before I must bid you goodbye once more." Though, of course, depending on the outcome of all this, the Regent may not be the regent much longer, and shall see her all the sooner. "You are invited too, of course, Lady Grandmother, should you wish."

Desmond is chillin' with Garett and Briallyn of course, doing his best grim-look impression.

Justin frowns faintly when the others do not answer his question. So be it. He thins his mouth and keeps his place when the others walk over to speak with Jarod and Rowena, himself giving them a polite nod for greeting but saying nothing more. It seems the formalities are progressing with the judicial duel and that holds most of his attention.

Ser Gedeon regards Lord Anton as he comes closer. The thinner, blonder man leans in to speak quietly to his second after a quick glance towards Ser Rygar and the Erenford.

Danae's gazes slips towards the combatants as Kittridge chides his sister for ridiculous plans, lingering a moment longer on the Ser Tordane. She pats the younger girl's arm lightly, following her line of sight towards the seconds. "I know not who attends Ser Nayland, Erenford I bet, but that is Lord Ser Anton Valentin of Oldstones with Ser Tordane," she murmurs quietly, giving locations to the men.

While such practices as the fight to come are accepted and the manner in which such disputes are settled, Muirenn has seen more death and violence than she ever thought or wanted to see in her short life. Despite this, she wants greatly to show the Mallister support of Gedeon's claim and she journeyed with her kinsmen here. Quiet on the trip itself, and quiet as she settles herself in a seat provided by one of her retainers for herself and her elderly Septa, the redheaded girl finally turns towards her maidservent and murmurs, "Minnie, you brought my bag of herbs and salves yes?" Her grey eyes glance down as if to reassure herself even as the other girl replies, "Of course my lady."

Following this, she lets her gaze wander the other groupings of people…namely the individuals who spend more time at Stonebridge or the Mire, most of who are either unknown or at least little known to her.

With the call and answer completed, Rygar places the helm upon his head, secures the helm with a pin and draws the visor down. Gauntleted hands are held out to one side and his squire places the crow's beak into his hand. Feeling the heft of the weapon with familiarity. Turning in place, he offers a sharp bow from the waist to the cluster of his present kin, sweeping the polearm to one side in a sharp flourish, before he stands again to his full height and turns again to face Gedeon across the bridge. The haft of his pole-hammer is drawn vertically in salute, before he begins the walk across the bridge to let the mortal contest begin, at last.

"I would hardly ever plan anything ridiculous at a time like this," Rosanna says, rolling her eyes at Kittridge. The very idea. She tips her head to Danae as the lady pats her arm. "He's very tall," she says of Anton, not altogether displeased with the sight.

Marsden quips up. "I believe it is." a glance back to the Groveses. "He arrived last night, if I recall." Eyes go back to the combatants. "Warrior be his hand." the septon murmurs as he straightens.

Roland stands to the side, eyeing the wine, although it isn't clear if he wants a drink, or to poison the supply to cease the incessant prattlings of the silk-covered vultures nearby, gathered to watch his brother's fateful duel.

Jarod notes the lack of greeting from Justin, muttering a soft "Fair enough" under his breath, and offering a polite if not overly warm, "Lord Justin" to his half-brother. Along with a bow, which includes Kamron and Martyn as well. "Sers Mallister. Glad to see your faces among the crowd. As shall Ser Gedeon be, Seven aid his triumph." He then turns to bow to Saffron. It's a deeper one than he gave the men, full of flourish that wouldn't be out of place in a mummer's show. "My Lady Saffron Banefort. Charmed and all that. It's ever a pleasure to meet kin to Lady Anais, and I hope she's well. I am, as was said, Ser Jarod the Half-Eagle…" Perhaps a safer intro than any surnames he might append to it. "And this is my wife, the Lady Rowenna Nayland." Behind the paperbook knight show bows, however, his green eyes are serious, and they drift to Rygar and Gedeon as things begin to get underway.

Looking at Rygar, Garett's gaze suddenly sweeps over to catch a glimpse of Riordan, as if contenplating. Nothing is voiced however, finally stormy eyes moving to land on his sister. It doesn't linger long before it turns to face straight forward. "Are you sure you want to be here?" he asks, voice frozen as it is, down to Briallyn.

For the moment, Riordan's attention is caught by his cousin. Wordlessly, he looks to the knight that he appointed Sheriff of Stonebridge. Putting hand to his heart, the Regent of Stonebridge bows low to the combatant in a symbol of true respect.

"He is promised to the Lady Lucienne Terrick," Danae informs Rosanna in a gossipy fashion, shooting her a wry look as she does. Behave. Her gaze flickers towards Marsden at his comment, slipping off towards the combat as Rygar places his helmet. She pales slightly, looking towards Ser Gedeon and exhaling a low breath.

"I will stay as long as my time allows," Roslyn murmurs to her brother, though those neutral words are paired with a promised look and a tight nod. But then Rygar is bowing towards them, drawing her gaze away as she meets the bow with nothing but her steady hazel eyes, reflecting little in her expression. She does not bow back, nor make any gesture of luck, but she does watch.

Fingers grip the Westerling knight's arm imperceptibly tighter to watching eyes, but no doubt the man would feel the dig of her nails against his sleeve. Dark green eyes sweep up from the ground to blink at Garett in mild surprise. "It is the only proper thing to do," Briallyn mutters, pitching her voice low. "If they're brave enough to do such a thing, I can at least offer them the respect of observing it."

Roric rests his leg across the other's knee, sitting back and watching as he takes a sip on the wine offered by his guardsman. He looks over the bridge, taking notice of the crowds arriving far and wide to watch the duel. He then turns his attention on the official proceedings, peering at the interactions between the men and their seconds.

Anton, who is indeed quite tall, nods his head at Gedeon's words, whatever they may be. He watches for a moment as Rygar is prepared by his squire, and then turns to the would-be Lord Tordane, looking him over briefly. He sets a hand on the shorter knight's maile-clad shoulder, and speaks quietly for a moment, expression a somber frown. Then he gives Gedeon's shoulder a thump, and steps back out of his way, taking up his place to observe.

And she is there, Jarod's wife, despite any protestations she'd made to the contrary. Rowenna nods in greeting, somewhat distractedly, her eyes on the field. Her fingers lace with Jarod's, gripping his hand tight enough that her knuckles whiten.

Kamron frowns slightly at Justin's question as Jarod and Rowena respond, studying the group of people across the river. A frown touches his lips, "I believe so." A chuckle rises from his chest, "I believe so, but I'm not sure. I've never met the Lady Tordane, actually." As things kick off on the bridge, the Mallister draws in a breath, nodding to Martyn as well, then gesturing up to the combatants, "Traitor? Really? Apparently the Good King doesn't agree, given his ruling." His lips twist into a grimace, "Not that that would ever stop Ser Rygar." Smoothing the grimace from his lips, he bows formally to Ser Gedeon Tordane, despite the intervening distance, his next words murmured under his breath, "Seven watch over him…" Looking over to the rest of the group that has gathered on the eastern bank, he nods, "At least this should be easier to follow than a melee. They are both skilled combatants, so it will be worth the watching."

As the two warriors are approaching each other on the stone bridge, the town's namesake, Kell's sword hand is hanging down at his side but the off-hand goes to the grip of his sheathed blade, gripping it. Not a grip to draw but one that seems more of an idle gesture as he seems to be expecting the clash between Gedeon and Rygar to begin. Duels of this magnitude will of course be tense, especially if it is to the death, like the one between Lord Jason Mallister and Prince Rodrik Greyjoy.

"No benefit to either of them nowadays," Rosanna murmurs of the gossip Danae offers her. She finally quiets when it looks like that combat will begin.

Anneke Steward, clad in white with scarlet ribbons — Oldstones colors — materializes from the crowd, a sentinel at Anton's side. She clasps her hands before her, standing tall, her expression… more or less expressionless. Chin high, posture imperial as she watches the scene unfold.

Tiaryn is starting out on her own, coming down to watch. Well, if you don't count the maid and the guard, everpresent as they seem to be, she's alone. She might be a little bit late, as if she couldn't quite decide should she come or not, but she's here on the edges, observing. She moves in closer, her skirts rustling slightly, as her attention goes to the bridge and the upcoming? ongoing? Whatever state it's in duel.

Saffron's pale gaze brightens just a bit to Jarod. "She is busy, Ser Jarod… but I believe she would say that busy can be good." And she casts Rowenna another brighter smile, though she finds herself unable to keep her attention from the event for long. "Tensions are high," Saffron notes offhandedly. And tensions lead to nervousness. The fingers tighten around her elbow, holding the limb tighter against her frame. She begins to worry at her lower lip a bit, though she can almost hear the nagging voice of her Mistress in her head and she immediately tightens her jaw to cease such nervous behavior. She stands up slightly on her tiptoes, as if trying to increase her vantage point. "But will the end be worth the fight," the young Banefort murmurs, more or less to herself.

"You don't go watch a war to be respecful." Garett replies, more a grunt than anything else. "I only tell you now, no one will look down on you if you look away. It is not a plesant thing. Being proper has nothing to do with it."

Katrin's Septa leans in to murmur quietly to her lady, gesturing off in other directions. The Haigh shakes her head but does at least agree to move a distance away, coming up alongside Roric. "Might I join you, Lord Roric?" she asks quietly, her followers in tow.

Riordan nods to his sister's words, and shares a brief look with Roslyn, but otherwise his attention is now wholly focused on the fight about to begin.

"I shall dine with Ser Rygar tonight, I think," Rebekkah replies to Riordan. "If you are there as well, Rickart's Favored Boy, that would be well." If she has any doubt as to the outcome of the duel, she's not about to show it. She turns to smile, very slight, at Roslyn. "If you grow tired of standing, dear, there is room to sit on my cushions." Her bearers might sigh a little at that offer, but they don't dare object in any outward fashion.

Justin turns his head when he hears his name, looking to his half brother, "Ser Jarod. I see Lord Richart didn't impale you before his tower." The Terrick gives Ser Kamron a slow nod, the other man's voice drawing Justin's gaze back to the bridge and those gathered on it.

The Castellan of Stonebridge offers a deep dip of her head to Rygar as he bows to the group. Her hand again finds the Regent's forearm to rest upon it. One who is particularly perceptive might note her gloved fingers hold onto her escort tighter than when she first arrived and her eyes barely blink now.

Gedeon offers a small smile and a curt nod to his second for those murmured words before he lifts his maile coif, settling it over his head. He settles the iron cap, with its nose piece, over that. Having no kin of his own present, he turns instead towards those clustered who he believes support his claim and stand beneath Mallister-sworn or Oldstone banners. Drawing his sword, he holds it up at chest level, blade pointed towards the sky, and offers a deep bow. Then he straightens and turns to face Ser Rygar. As the Nayland salutes with his polearm, so the Tordane salutes with his sword. Then he, too, begins to walk, so that the pair of combatants will meet in the center of the bridge.

A small smile flourishes on Riordan's face at Rebekkah's words. Again, he does not speak, but his spine seems to stiffen. As if the Hag of the Mire's words has renewed his resolve, and his faith in his cousin, his family, the Gods… and whatever else will decide the outcome of today.

"It'll start." the obvious Septon states before he nods to Gedeon. And now the usually jovial man draws silent.

"Ah, Lady Haigh," greets Roric as Katrin approaches him, offering her an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I didn't expect you! I'd have brought two chairs. Please, make use of my hospitality," Roric offers, the Westerling politely rising from his 'portable' (as far as his guardsman is concerned) chair, gesturing toward it for Katrin to sit. "Didn't think you'd be interested in this sort of thing. Big things at stake!"

"I would not dream to sit, Lady Grandmother, as it may take from your own comfort," Roslyn answers politely, her own smile touching at her lips for a moment. "I am here to attend you, not myself."

Martyn shrugs a little bit as he listens, looking over as Gedeon does that bow. "He will have his work cut out for him, our Ser Tordane," he offers to the others nearby, a bit thoughtfully. Watching rather carefully for now, looking lost in thought.

Justin says low under his breath, "May the seven favour Ser Gedeon."

Jarod can't help but chuckle at Justin's words. "Not yet, head's still attached. The Naylands have been rather gracious to us, all things considered." He takes Rowenna's hand, squeezing it quick, then slipping an arm around her waist. Expressive face growing more sober as he watches the two men ready. "Seven see it done. It's been a long time coming."

For a long moment, Muirenn studies Jarod and Rowenna silently. Eventually she gives the pair of them a kindly smile and inclines her head in greeting. Withdrawing a hankerchief she fingers it absently as if some movement to release tension is necessary as she focuses on the combatants. Leaning over she pats her elderly Septa's arm and murmers, "I will have Heurtebise find some watered wine should you feel need of refreshment." As Gedeon strides forward, her lips purse but then the Mallister maiden straightens and her lips curve upwards into a proud smile, commenting to her maid, "My brother and cousin hold him in great esteem. He is a brave and honorable man Ser Tordane. We must pray that the Seven see him triumph."

Many of those present have seen Rygar Nayland in battle. Previously the man had been noted as a conservative and meticulous warrior, yet as he strides toward the smaller Gedeon, the severe knight's movements and manner are markedly more aggressive, his motion as he draws the crow's beak high and back to ready for the first blow. To begin to duel, he strikes to slay, not to spare.

Ser Kittridge lifts his glass as the two combatants step forward to meet their ends, a silent toast to them or the gods or something made before he drains his glass. It is quickly refilled from the skin he carries, but he is otherwise all of attention on the duel.

No complaint is uttered from Riordan's lips as the Lady Valda finds his arm once more. He glances aside to her, but only for a heartbeat, before his eyes are once more fixed as Rygar, his cousin and Sheriff, moves forward to strike.

"No, no," Katrin says quietly, "I did not seek to steal your seat from you, but merely not watch this alone." Her eyes are focused on the beginning duel and she grows tense.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Gedeon has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Rygar has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Rygar spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Gedeon spends a luck point to keep fighting!

Kamron nods at Martyn's words before he looks back to Saffron, "Control of Stonebridge is a rich prize, Lady Saffron. But I'm sure that both combatants will comport themselves honorably." He nods to Jarod, "It has indeed. And it will either be a short time in ending, or a long time yet, depending on who the Seven favor today."

As Ser Rygar begins with that sudden, lethal movement forward, Gedeon holds his ground and lifts his blade to meet that downward swing of the polearm. There's a grind of metal and the greatsword pushes past, stabbing into Rygar's chest. And yet, at the same moment, Rygar's weapon strikes his belly through the maile, and Ser Gedeon jerks back and away as the mild strike causes the old, healed wound to suddenly throb.

Marsden winces in that first bout and clash of weapons. A blink and the Septon thumps his spear down. "There we go." and Louder "FINE HIT TORDANE" is cheering bad?

In the initial pass of arms, both knights strike blows. Rygar's greater reach gives the first blow to the Nayland, and- while Gedeon is much fleeter of foot, and avoids the worst of Rygar's violence- the force of the taller knight's blow upon Gedeon's torso is enough to knock Gedeon back. In return however, the younger, swifter knight lands a telling blow to Rygar's chest, staggering the severe Ser. Drawing his weapon higher again, the Nayland steps again to the combat, maintaining his habitual grim silence in battle.

Tiaryn steps forward a bit further, winding through the crowds, as she does so. She's looking to see if she recognizes anyone, pausing to watch as the battle begins. It is a moment in which she's not at all sure what to do, her hands fisting as she tenses, but then forces herself to at least an appearance of relaxation. Her steps take her wandering somewhat near the Mallisters and company, though she's not entirely paying attention. It's the bridge that has her gaze.

Kell's grip on the hilt of his weapon with his off-hand tightens for a moment after watching the first exchange between the two combatants. They certainly are not disappointing as both stagger right off the bat, though Ser Rygar seems to have come out for the worst of the two.
Dragon pages Gedeon and Rygar: Should I run it whenever you've both posed, or wait til you say you're ready?
p dragon gedeon=Once we've both posed, and have entered actions, I think we're ready. Ged?
You paged Dragon and Gedeon with 'Once we've both posed, and have entered actions, I think we're ready. Ged?'

Saffron cannot control herself as she takes a sudden half-step forward as the first blows are dealt, and she actually grasps at Kamron's sleeve for a brief moment—and it is indeed brief. She says no more on the worth of the prize, and she watches the interplay with a strangely attentive eye.

Wrapped up in the first clasp of combat, Danae starts at the Septon's improper cheer — considering ther weight of the duel. She does not spar a moment to cast him a glance, eyes on the combatants.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!

"We'll see how it plays," Jarod replies simply to Kamron, eyeing the opening hits as they're exchanged. His muscles are drawn tense but he doesn't blink. Violence he can deal with. It's what'll come after that likely has taut as a bowstring.

"Oh? Well, then, if you insist," shrugs Roric, retaking his seat and looking back to the action. "Don't suppose you have any favorites? Though this is rather…macabre, hm?" asks Roric thoughtfully with an uneasy chuckle.

Valda remains still as a mountain, except for her eyes, which follow the combat with alacrity. It is not the hit on Gedeon, but the more severe one on Rygar that has her stiffening a bit… if a statue could be said to stiffen.

Rosanna watches the combat with wide eyes just a little strangely fascinated by the whole thing. She takes in a little breath when steel clashes, but does not yet flinch away from the violence.

And there's the first blow! Many in the crowd cheer or jeer according to their leanings for the outcome! Justin says nothing, his young face serious as he watches the combat.

Anais stands as a silent witness from the Terrick side of the conflict, not far from where Saffron is. Her hands rest flat against her thighs, and her features are carefully composed to betray no feeling as to the outcome of the match.

Marsden grimaces again. A shake of his head as he thumps his spear again. "Stay on im Lad." The septon mutters.

Garett is as impassive as ever, watching the fight pass by, statuesque as he's been known for. Whatever movement he makes is by Bri hanging onto his arm.

In the second pass, Ser Rygar lowers and reverses the hammer head of his polearm, choosing to lead with the Crow's beak backspike in a sweeping strike that parallels the ground, seeking to deny the swifter knight the ease of his dodging. The spike tears into maile with great effect, but does not knock Ser gedeon from his feet. Taking a blow upon his coat of plates, the lean accuser continues to press his momentary advantage.

"Well, at least it began less one sided than… the last duel…" Martyn mutters, mostly to himself, although it's offered in Kamron's direction as well, as he watches intently. One hand reaching up to his neck, without him really noticing it. He mutters something under his breath as he watches now.

Rowenna swallows hard, closing her eyes for an instant as the combatants clash, then forcing them open with her jaw set grim.

The sweep of her lashes falling low at the hit, Roslyn is still for a long moment before she stirs forward to Rebekkah's side. It seems imperative that she question at just this moment, "My Lady Grandmother, do you need something to drink? The day is likely to be long."

Riordan had sucked in a breath at the first exchange of blows, one he appeared unaware or taking. Whether it is from the tightening of the grasp by Lady Valda on his arm, or his own reactions is hard to tell. Regardless, that breath is released in a sharp exhale at the second exchange, and the Regent nods his head sharply, and silently.

The clash of arms draws Kamron Mallister's attention sharply, and he too leans forward, blinking slightly as his sleeve is held back just for a moment. Glancing back to Saffron, he chuckles softly even as his eyes dart back to the combat, "Both of their weapons are powerful ones, Lady Saffron, but not good for defensive measures. This could be a very quick fight if they're not careful." He gestures with his left hand, "You see how Ser Rygar is trying to keep Ser Gedeon at a distance… Ser Gedeon needs to close in order to deal telling damage, while Ser Rygar can strike from a distance." Evidently, he's designated himself as the official announcer. "The spike at the back of his hammer can pierce maile relatively easily. Very dangerous." He nods to Martyn, offering the other Mallister a crooked grin, even with his eyes on the fight.

The next attack goes less well for the Tordane knight, his sword but glancing off of the armor across Rygar's stomach. In turn, he gets a sharp jab in the chest from the polearm and another cut through the armor. Gedeon grimaces at the discomfort, but he, too, makes little noise while fighting. So there is only the shuffle of feet, the clink of armor and the clash of metal striking metal or the quieter, more frightful absence of it when metal finds flesh, instead.

Rebekkah does not even turn away from the violence to shake her head at Roslyn. "I'm fine dear, thank you." It's said quite soft, and might be hard to hear over the other voices in the crowd. The dowager does not flinch as blows are traded, but her fingernails dig into her withered palms at each one taken by Rygar.

Seated on the east bank by her brother, cousin, and the Terricks, Muirenn cannot repress the gasp at the blows. Her fingers tighten around her hankerchief as she watches wide-eyed, listening absently to her cousin as he explains the intricacies of the battle to lady Saffron as if to attempt to understand it in a way that is more detailed merely than two men banging at each other with weapons.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Critical wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - Moderate wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).

Justin has noticed that both Anais and Muirenn have come. He only briefly studies each for his attention is mostly upon not missing the blows being exchanged. The second and third round of blows makes him grimace before he turns slightly towards Lady Muirenn, "You may not wish to watch this, Lady." Obviously it's not goin gwell for those who favour Gedeon's place here.

Roslyn's look lingers for a long moment on her grandmother, but she makes no further interruptions on the woman. Next, she looks to the back of her brother's head, to the Lady Valda standing beside him. Finally, her gaze tears away from those around her and sweeps slowly over the crowd.

Jarod's fingers tighten a little on Rowenna's hand. He takes his eyes off the fight to glance aside to her, once, then fixes on the duelists again.

Katrin's expression is grim as she watches, even as her face pales significantly. "I stand and watch as a member of House Haigh," she says quietly. "To see what the future of Stonebridge will be."

Dark moss green eyes watch the unfolding scene with rapt attention, Briallyn's fingers still firmly gripping the Westerling knight's arm. She chews her full lower lip thoughtfully, though the corners of her mouth are turned downward in a notable frown.

Rowenna makes a choked, anguished sound at Jarod's side. No stranger to violence or blood or death, this affects her. Deeply. She stares unblinking at the field, sheet white. "I think I'm going to throw up…" It's said in the tiniest of voices.

"Oh," perks up Roric in reply, keeping his eye on the fight as things get more serious. "Hm, well, it seems like you won't have to watch long," he notes, his tone resigned.

As Ser Rygar presses on, Gedeon meets him strike for strike, and both crow's beak and greatsword crash into their opponents' heads. Rygar's cut is deeper, and blood is clearly visible trickling through Gedeon's maile coif as the blond knight trips a step backwards. His own blade is red as it comes away, though from the looks of it, Ser Rygar's wound is not so wretched.

Tia isn't about to throw up, but she's stopped moving, watching silently, her arms wrapped around herself as if she's cold, and her eyes darkened with her emotions as she watches. It's almost as if she's caught, unable to look away.

Marsden moves closer to Lady Fanae, but doesnt speak above a mutter. His prayers obviously.ay they be answered.

Lifting her face to look up at Justin, Muirenn murmers "I am here to show the support of House Mallister for Ser Tordane's claim. I am proud to do this for him on behalf of my family. I thank you for your concern though." A small smile is managed but quickly she returns her attention to Gedeon and Rygar. The healer in her winces at the wounds both take, biting her lower lip as another blow….more serious this time is taken by Gedeon.

With only his cold blue eyes visible through the visor, Rygar's stonefaced countenance goes unseen. Again recovering the weight of his weapon, Rygar draws the polearm overhead and strikes donward, seeking to overpower Gedeon's defenses. The blow as it lands is brutal and bloody. The helm does not wholly collapse, but blood is clearly visible. In the same instant, Gedeon's blow leaves a deep crease in the side of the Nayland's helm. While blood has begun to flow, it remains largely concealed beneath his armor. Grunting shortly at the impact, he continues to press the PRetender backward.

Kamron grits his teeth at the bloody pass, turning his body slightly to put his far shoulder between Saffron and the melee. His words are unconscious echo to Justin's, "You may not want to watch this, Lady Saffron. It's liable to be bloody from here." He glances over to Rowenna at her statement, although his eyes go back to the fight almost immediately.

Riordan's jaw tightens as the blows continue, his free hand beginning to open and close. Opening, and then closing again, his knuckles whiten as he continues to observe in silence.

The Lady Danae pales considerably as Rygar withdraws his polearm, the blood on its blade glinting menacingly. Red with Tordane Blood. Despite nearing the shade of her gown, her face is as composed as if previously crafterd from stone.

"Men," Anais mutters under her breath as Rygar and Gedeon both take wounds, grimacing. She draws a deep breath, and for a moment it isn't the fighters she watches so much as the crowds, her mind already trying to look forward.

Martyn winces a bit as he watches now. "That's got to…" he trails off a bit, muttering under his breath. Glancing away from the fight for a few moments, he notices Tiaryn, and offers a polite nod in her direction, before he looks back to the duel now. Expression a bit unreadable now.

Rosanna pulls her hand from Kittridge's arm to pat lightly at Danae's hand in the crook of her own, perhaps catching sight of her color, but it's a distracted sort of pat as she continues to watch the duel.

The Banefort daughter listens to the Mallister knight, though it is obvious she is not intent on looking away. She is almost dancing on the balls of her feet with each exchange from the pair, as if at any moment she would dart forward toward the fray while a strong sense of restraint keeps her back—a conflict of instinct and learned behavior. Her jaw tightens as the blood begins to flow, though she seems to be unwilling to look away despite the words of the knight. "All men bleed, Ser Kamron," is all she replies, though her skin is already a touch paler than its normal wintry peach.

Justin's face is grim so he only gives Lady Muirenn a nod, standing beside where she is seated as he watches the two fighting men continue to hack at one another, the sound of steel ringing out over the stone bridge for all to hear above the murmur of voices.

Valda's jaw clenches tightly, the muscles beneath visibly flexing. One can only imagine what Riordan's forearm must look like beneath his shirtsleeve now. Fortunately for him, the Castellan keeps her nails trimmed, but the way the kid fur stretches over her knuckles, there will likely be bruising. Perhaps this is why only a young man could be convinced to be the lady's escort as the fate of herself, her daughter, and her unborn grandchild are being decided.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Light wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword and MISSES!

"It'll be done clean, whichever of them do it. Man can't ask for more than that," Jarod mutters soft to Rowenna. "He'll appreciate you having been here to see it done." It's unclear which of the fighters he means, or what precisely 'done' would consist of. The words aren't precisely warm comfort, but his grip on her hand is constant.

It isn't looking too good for Katrin as she watches. She seems distinctly queasy as it is quite possibly the first time she has seen such a violent action. And yet her eyes never turn away. "To which side do you prefer, my Lord?" she asks, voice wavering slightly.

Still reeling from the last blow, blinking and shaking his head to keep blood from his eyes, Gedeon moves his sword to try and block Rygar's next grim press. He manages to knock the polearm mostly away, though its tip cuts a thin gash along his throat.

Roland does not move, barely even blinks, his gaze locked upon his brother until the fates have made their choice.

"Neither," admits Roric, grimacing slightly as the blood begins to fly. "It would've been far better if they could've decided this over a card game, and whichever one wins means little to me. Trade flows either way, the only difference is which family suffers."

Rygar lands another blow, but Gedeon's agility- even diminished- takes the worst of the force from the blow. Taking a deft step to one side as the Rivers swordsman's blow hisses past, a sharp inhale is the only clue that his wounds pain the Nayland.

Truthfully, Riordan seems mostly unaware as Valda digs into his arm. As the older woman abuses his flesh, he like her does not look away. And, aside from the whitening of his own knuckles as his hand closes again into a fist, and another sharp nod at Rygar's newest blow, he remains still. And utterly, utterly silent.

Kamron nods to Saffron, "But most of us prefer not to, Lady Saffron." He turns open to the duel again, allowing Saffron her view of the fight, "Gods keep him… he's still playing Ser Rygar's game."

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - ARMOR on Right Hand stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Gedeon has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Gedeon spends a luck point to keep fighting!

Fingers are pressed to her lips almost as if the girl is trying to hold back some sort of utterance. Muirenn's skin pales and looks almost ghostly against the black of her gown and veil as she continues to watch, lowering her hand to silently begin to murmer a prayer.

Still again, Roslyn finally drags her gaze back to the fight in front of her, the passiveness of her expression betraying little as a look combs over those changes in each since last she watched. She murmurs a prayer to the Seven, softly.

Rowenna nods in a vague sort of way, perhaps not even registering Jarod's words, but responding to his voice. She blinks once, eyes ever on the field, and swallows visibly. "Oh, Gods," she whispers, when Gedeon falls, anguished. "Sweet Mother…"

Rygar's shoulders are visibly heaving with the exertion of the contest, even as Geoffrey Tordane's sword draws a bright crease in the niello etchings on the back of his right gauntlet. In turn, his own blow manages to once again drive Gedeon back. He pauses a moment to, take two steady steps to the right and adjusting his grip upon the haft of the polearm, before once again stepping to the assault.

Well, they are both getting fairly bloody now, especially Ser Gedeon. Both men striving with all their strength and breath to slay the other while colorful banners flap gracefully in the sunlight overhead. Softly Justin says, "He's still on his feet."

This time, as Gedeon attempts to dodge, Ser Rygar's polearm snakes through and manages a light jab to the chest. A little cut, in and of itself, but with the blood in his eyes and perhaps a bit of dizziness, the Tordane knight staggers back and down onto one knee. He lists, and for an instant it seems he may fall, but his shoves back up to his feet, shaking his head again and readying himself for the next blow.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Moderate wound to Right Arm (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - ARMOR on Neck stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Gedeon has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Gedeon spends a luck point to keep fighting!

The half septon hisses a curse through his teeth as Gedeon takes the most recent blow

The fingers tucked in the crook of Rosanna's elbow tighten slightly, the new turn of the battle doing little to return Danae's colour to anything resembling heathy. Her lips begin to move silently, watching Gedeon intently. It could be prayer. Seven Bless.

Saffron brings her hands up to her mouth as a sudden gasp bursts past her lips, becoming caught in her palm. Pale eyes are fixated onto the violence, the flourish of blood that erupts with each blow. Again, there is the smallest half-step taken forward, but again she is reeled back into place beside the Mallister knights. "Get up… get up," she whispers into her palms as she looks between Gedeon and Rygar; as the former rises, she seems to take a moment to relax. But it is a bare heartbeat before she is back to feeling the tension in her shoulders once more.

Despite Riordan's silence and his attention being brought to bear fully on the combat at hand, Riordan's hand holds out behind him, in a gesture to Roslyn. Perhaps having heard her prayers, or simply needed her presence, he will hold out his hand to her should she choose to step up and take it, so that they may watch together. Meanwhile, though, Riordan's eyes remain on Rygar, a smile beginning to form on the most recent of blows by the Nayland knight.

Where Roslyn does step forward to take her brother's hand, she is quick to catch his smile with a frown of her own, quick to lecture for his ear only, "Do not smile at a man's death. His supporters will not look kindly on it."

"It seems to me that I've seen something going quite a bit like this before…" That's all Martyn says at the moment, as quiet as a mutter at the moment as he watches the happenings now. Glancing over at the others watching nearby for a few moments, and then back to the fighting.

Jarod shifts his arm a little around Rowenna, so she can lean against him, but his eyes remain fixed on Ser Gedeon. His posture grows even tenser and he seems to be holding his breath.

There is no response to Justin's words as she grips at the poor square of embroidered linen. Tears well up in her grey-green eyes but do not fall as Muirenn watches the combat. That Gedeon is still on his feet has her in awe, so many blows and so much blood.

Rygar's hammerblow once again knocks the younger knight from his feet with a blow to Gedeon's swordarm knocking the fair haired Ser Gedeon into the side walls of the stone bridge. Once again, Rygar stalks to the side, measuring his nearly crippled foe and recovering his breath for a moment, giving Gedeon the opportunity to rise or fall, before preparing his next strike.

Kamron shakes his head as Gedeon falls to one knee, drawing in a slow breath and letting it out. He looks over to Martyn a moment and shakes his head again, a sorrowful gesture. Setting his features, he looks back to the field of combat, speaking quietly to those around him, "If anyone doesn't want to see the end, they should look away. It won't be long now."

"Fire and steel, my best of the non-dragons…" Rebekkah mutters, fierce, but so soft it likely can't be heard beyond Roslyn. "Finish him in fire and steel."

Katrin sways slightly under the sudden vision of so much blood and gore. Her Septa steps up to take hold of her to ensure that the Lady will not take a tumble. "I'm fine," she says quietly. But she still looks like she could be sick to her stomach.

Tiaryn catches Martyn's look her way, but she's not moving, not sure she can, truthfully. She simply stands where she is, watching. She's near enough to hear the words spoken by the Mallisters, and one hand raises to her mouth, holding in the sound threatening to escape. Silently, she simply watches, and it might not even matter to her who wins or loses, just that someone is about to die.

At his sister's words, Riordan schools his expression, and nods his head. His eyes still on the two embattled men, he gives Roslyn's hand a light squeeze, while murmuring in a tone likely only carried to Valda and Roslyn, "Now, cousin. Finish it."

Things seem grim for Ser Gedeon. As he gets back onto his feet, he suffers another strike, this one to his upper arm. His greatsword strikes at Rygar's throat, but only scrapes off the armor there, and as the other man's crow's beak cuts into his arm, but hard enough he's once more off his feet. One more time, he regains them. One more time, he steps back into the frey.

"We watch, Ser Mallister," Anais replies to Kamron's words in a steady cadence. "The choice to bear witness is the only thing he left us when he decided to take this to single combat." Expressionless and implacable, the Lady Terrick watches.

Roric looks over to Katrin with an expression of concern, rising from his chair as he turns to address her. "Perhaps you should leave, Lady Haigh. It's not going to get any better, of that I can assure you," Roric promises, though he honestly doesn't look too pleased with the spectacle either.

Eyes still riveted upon the pair of combatants, Briallyn shifts her weight upon her feet and leans a shoulder against Garett's arm with a dire expression brewing beneath the fine cracks in her calm facade.

Unlike those around her, Valda says not a word. Nor does she blink. And it seems her breath is held for long periods of time, exhaled when absolutely necessary, only to be replaced by another large inhalation. She is not there with the others, it seems, but in a world all her own. The Castellan is well and truly drawn into the duel, leaning forward almost imperceptibly.

Roslyn's tension is only notable in the contact she retains, but approval and support pass over her own expression as Riordan catches and surpresses his smile. Her attention draws to her grandmother at the soft words, and then to her brother. She only murmurs another prayer.

<COMBAT> Rygar tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!

Garett is a statue made of chiseled granite. He does not speak, he does not move, he does not flinch.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Light wound to Right Hand (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).

As Gedeon is once again struck, Rosanna begins to shift her weight forward the slightest bit onto the balls of her feet, watching rapt as the combat dips and weighs between the two knights.

Rygar dodges backward as the bloodied bastard of Stonebridge surges again to his feet, taking a quick blow to the bridagine, before managing a blow which Gedeon's gauntlets take the worst of. Still moving backward from his desperate opponent, Rygar grunts again as a swordblow leaves another deep crease upon the armor over his already injured ribs.

Still a little unsteady on his feet, Ser Gedeon rallies enough to hold his own as the two men clash again. He suffers a small gash to his right hand, through the maile sleeve takes the brunt of it. His sword slips beneath Rygar's guard to again strike at the man's chest, managing a good dent in the armor there, despite the blood interfering with his vision.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - Serious wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).

Riordan grunts sharply to himself as, rather then a finishing blow, more and more blows continue to reign down from each combatant. Still caught between the silent Valda and the praying Roslyn, the Regent seems to think that his sister might have the right idea, and joins her in murmured prayer, albeit briefly. A call to the Warrior for strength, and the Father for justice.

Rygar plants the haft of his polearm across Gedeon's chest, seeking to shove the younger knight back and regain his distance, but in the motion, he briefly leaves himself over-extended. Though he is direly wounded, Gedeon is deft enough to take advantage of the lapse, staggering Rygar with teeth grinding to contain a shout of pain. He is only partially successful as he once again draws the weapon up to guard himself.

Gedeon presses his advantage, clinging with his proverbial teeth to each step forward he gains, each pace he can urge Rygar back. He waits, letting Rygar swing his polearm first so the agile knight can jerk out of the way and under. As the Nayland reaches, Gedeon uses his strength to swing his greatsword against Rygar's torso, causing another good crack to the harpy's armor across the belly.

Annnnddd… somehow Gedeon is still going at it with every last fibre of his being, nailing Ser Rygar a sound blow to the abdomin! Justin lifts his chin, still watching intently as the two combatants continue to press one another. "Come on, Ser Gedeon. Drop him." Even if it's unlikely, Justin mutters this to himself, his hands making fists.

"And still they fight on," Saffron says more or less to herself, though after a moment she glances toward Kamron and then to Anais with a slight tilt of her chin. She inhales deeply though her nose as she focuses her attention on the pair of duelists. She looks over toward Justin at his words, though all she manages to head is the final two.

Valda jerks as Rygar takes another serious wound. Now that his entire abdomen seems more or less ruined and he took an earlier blow to the head, she whispers softly to herself, almost soundlessly.

A call to the Warrior for strength. A call to the Mother for Kindness. A call the smith to hold the strength of that which is has case. A call for Justice of the Father. Barely breathing, Danae's lips make the shape of a hundred silent prayers to the seven. The Septon so near at hand cheers his encouragement to the Tordane Lord.

Kamron nods a little to Anais' words, his expression still flat. The Mallister knight's eyebrows rise up sharply as Rygar attempts to shove Gedeon back and Gedeon lands a heavy blow. Nodding to Saffron, "The gods make men strong, Lady Saffron."

From the edge of the dueling ground, Anton watches. He is stone-faced as his castellan beside him, arms crossed against broad chest, clenched fists well-hidden from sight beneath them. His jaw is tight, a muscle jumping visibly at its joint and the way he rests on the balls of his feet the only indication of his tension.

Rowenna's free hand balls up in her skirts, the tendons of her throat and shoulders standing out in stark tension. She trembles with it, though it may not be perceptible to anyone save those nearest her. It certainly must be to Jarod. "Live," she whispers. "Please live."

If Garett had a wristwatch, he'd be looking at it, but sadly, that's probably another few hundred years away. So all he can do is stand and watch critically as the fight continues on.

Martyn has gone quiet again now, watching the fighting intently. There's a grimace on his face anytime one of the two combatants take a hit. Staying entirely still aside from that, it would seem.

"How?" The question is breathless and perturbed, barely uttered loud enough for even Ser Garett to overhear. Briallyn stares, somewhere between intrigued and appalled, while clutching the knight's arm almost brutally tight beneath her clutches. With long nails, even.

The Gods in all their justice and wisdom look down and listen to prayers from both sides, though it seems they have not yet made up their minds. Muirenn's brow is furrowed in a frown as she watches intently the battle progress. A hand reaches out and gratefully finds the bony, parchment cool grasp of her elderly Septa. Together they continue to watch.

<COMBAT> Rygar attacks Gedeon with Polearm - Light wound to Left Hand (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Gedeon attacks Rygar with Greatsword - Light wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Gedeon has been KO'd!

And then, one supposes, the gods make their choice…

It's not much of a strike, compared to the others. Not really. Gedeon's blade manages a crease to Rygar's gorget and Rygar's polearm manages a wound to Gedeon's hand, despite the gauntlet. It's not the cut, so much as the angle, and his hand lets go, his father's sword falling and skittering away, beyond reach. Something in the blond knight simply… gives. He drops down to one knee, a hand pressed to the stone of the bridge, and while he can keep himself from falling, Gedeon cannot manage to stand again.

If ever Danae needs her clasp upon Rosanna'as arm, she needs it now. Her knees go weak as Gedeon falls to the stone pavement of the bridge, after taking yet another powerful blow to the head. Pale eyes do look away from the fallen knight, cannot bear to look away from the fallen knight.

Only a beat passes to take in the scene, breath caught in her chest, before Roslyn squeezes her brother's hand carefully. "It is done," she says quietly, relieved.

Rygar grunts again at the impact of the Tordane sword, but his wide stance remains steady. As his opponent slips to one knee, the severe Nayland at last breaks his silence, speaking with words clipped, "Alas that you did not live your life with the same dignity you have ended it, Ser. It would never have come to this." Drawing his polearm high, the end spike angled downward to end the duel, Rygar does not spend the breath to inquire whether Gedeon yields. When that blow falls, it will drive the steel spike to the base of the young knight's neck.

Letting out a long breath he did not remember holding, Riordan gives one final nod. Resisting the urge to smile after his sister's recent words, he gives Roslyn's hand another squeeze as the final blow falls against the defeated Tordane knight.

"Fools." Garett utters darkly, voice frozen as a glacier, the first word that he's uttered in watching it end. Then she shakes his head at Rygar makes a killing blow. "Pointless. Pointless waste of life."

Roland watches the pretender go down and turns away. He does not need to see the final blow. His brother is alive, and he isn't the type to be caught up with so many others while he cannot be sure of his control. He will visit Rygar later to see if he wants for anything.

"Lady—" When Rosanna feels Danae go weak beside her, she reaches with her other hand to clasp the woman's arm. She draws in a sharp breath at the hard, raw violence of Gedeon's end.

Jarod can't look surprised when Gedeon falls, given how the duel was going, but he does seem to deflate. So much, ended so quick. He watches until Rygar prepares to drive the spike into Gedeon's neck, then he turns away. Eyes on his lady wife, propping her a little more now.

Lord Ser Anton opens his mouth as Gedeon falls to a knee and Rygar steps close, and just for a moment, it looks as if he might step forward, or shout, or something. Not that anyone is likely to be watching him with an execution happening just yards away. But he does nothing, and then it is done. And then he does step forward, heading straight for the fallen knight.

"Well, that's that, then. Nothing changes except for there being one more corpse," sighs Roric, shaking his head to himself as he takes a final swig from his skin of wine and rises from the chair. He nods to his guardsman, who picks up the chair and hoists it over his shoulder. "Shall I escort you back to town, Lady Haigh?" Roric inquires as he prepares to leave.

Valda sees Gedeon stagger, then looks to Rygar, as though willing him to end this once and for all. Not that there was any question in her mind. As the Nayland's spike cuts through the tender flesh of the upstart's neck, she does not so much as blink at the spray of blood. rather, relief washes over her, so much so that her knees weaken a bit and she grips Riordan with both hands momentarily. Her daughter, her unborn grandchild, her own name… all are safe. Safe as is possible, all things considered. "Ser, I want to be with the maesters when they tend to your cousin. They missed the poison in your brother's blood and I'll not see them do the same again."

The final blow draws a choked gasp past her lips, and Saffron presses her hand to her mouth. Having not met the knight, she cannot will tears to her eyes, but she feels the heaviness in her chest grow. Sympathetic grief, and perhaps the faintest touch of worry over what this loss may bring. She draws her other arm across her torso, fingers curling into the dark textile of her bodice. She finally takes the smallest step back, opposing her earlier threat of approach.

Rowenna cries out, raw and wretched, as Rygar delivers the killing blow. She staggers and bends double, then turns to cling to Jarod, sobbing full voiced, her fists balled in his tunic.

Tia's eyes search the crowd oh so briefly, looking for someone, but whether she finds who she is looking for or not, that is hard to say. She takes a breath and then holds it, for a long long moment. She's shaking, but she watches as the battle comes to its ultimate conclusion without a sound. And as folks begin to think about dispersing, she's still not moving, just standing there, staring.

Rebekkah watches the death blow as Rygar lands it, not blinking. Gods knows what she's seen in her many years to rival this, but she doesn't react like this is the worst of it. Wrinkled face grim, but the nod she gives is satisfied. "Well done, my High-gar the Low."

As Rygar looms closer, Gedeon peels his helm from his head and drops it to the ground. He hardly needs it, now. At last, his gloved hand can wipe the blood from his eyes and his gaze slides out among the crowd to seek out those faces he knows, those he loves, those he will never see again. And then, he looks back up at Ser Rygar, strangely peaceful even as he lifts his chin and offers the cold knight his throat. For the man's judgement on his life, Gedeon smiles softly. "And yet, ser," he answers between shaky breaths, "I lived it well." His eyes stay open as the polearm descends. There is a terrible, soft sound, and spray of blood, and Gedeon, be his Rivers or Tordane, falls sideway to the ground and is no more.

Above the Rest. Kamron keeps steady as he watches the Terrick hopes for reclaiming Stonebridge fall to one knee, and as the polehammer rises up to end that claim. He doesn't look away, he doesn't gasp, he doesn't say anything until the spike has fallen, and driven Gedeon to the ground. Only when Ser Gedeon of the questionable last name is down and still does he speak, "The gods have judged."

Wincing a bit as he sees the end of the fight, Martyn takes a few deep breaths, grimacing a bit as he watches. He knows how it is, being the one waiting for the killing blow after all. Wincing a bit at the end of it, he looks down toward the ground now. "A good man dies today…" he mutters under his breath, taking a few steps back from where he was standing.

Justin makes not a sound nor does he look away from the last blow that finishes Ser Gedeon. His mouth is a harsh line, his own expression gone stoic and his hands he unclenches. He murmurs something to himself for the slayn man's soul perhaps, then exhales a slow breath in a sigh.

"Of course, Lady Valda," Riordan says, with a nod to her. "Look after him well," he bids her, simply. He shares a brief glance, if she even looks at him, after that final blow is landed. He then looks back at the Bastard as he lets out his last breath… and despite it all, Riordan, Regent of Stonebridge, offers a prayer to the fallen.

Anais watches the final blow, then closes her eyes. It's not so different from how she stood on the walls of Four Eagles when Maron Greyjoy slaughtered villagers. She draws a deep breath, then turns to Justin, reaching a hand to his arm. "If Oldstones doesn't claim the body, make sure we do," she murmurs. "I'll not hear of further indignities." And then she turns, moving away from the bridge.

"It is done. Let us see you to the tower, my Lady Grandmother. There is no longer reason to remain standing here," Roslyn replies as her hand slips from her brother's, shifting away to leave him to Lady Valda's attention instead as she returns to her duties to Lady Rebekkah.

"They could never see him live, not if there was ever question as to what belonged to him by rights," Briallyn says softly, prying her fingers from his arm as they begin to ache. She swallows audibly, having turned her face away at the final blow struck by the Nayland knight's weapon.

"It's done, c'mon," Jarod says soft to Rowenna, nudging her a little to try and steer her through the crowd and away from the scene of Gedeon's death. He seems to feel no inclination to linger.

Shuddering as the polearm drives down and life flees Ser Gedeon's body, Muirenn lets her compassionate tears roll down her cheeks. Her voice is practical as she murmers to her cousin and brother, in a voice that is calm "I care not for public opinion. Please see that they do not desecrate the body. I would that we give Ser Tordane the ceremonies proper to a brave and honorable knight among people who actually care for him." Anais echoes her intent and she nods her agreement. The mangled hankerchief is lifted to her eyes as she whispers "I want to go home now Septa Waldestinia…back to the estate."

The Castellan of Oldstones watches until the bitter end, refusing to turn away. Tears spill over, but they're silent. Finally, when there is nothing more to see, she closes her eyes, as though in prayer.

Katrin watches to the very end, but as the body falls slack, she turns her attention back to the crowd, observing relief and happiness to the silent grief in others. Her own expression is pale but unreadable as the Lady Haigh turns away without a word to depart from the scene.

Valda catches Riordan's look and nods. "I do hope someone cleans that filth off the stones. That thing's tainted blood has too long stained Stonebridge. I'll not have it seeping in as well," she notes flippantly before releasing the Regent's arm and slowly taking smooth steps toward the greatly injured victor of the duel.

"Fools." the Westerling Knight says again. "I will never understand, Briallyn. Never. And myabe, I'm glad I do not. There is nothing left to be done here. I've had enough pointless violence for one day." He almost spits as he says that. Instead he just turns on his heel, heading away from the bridge, wether the Haigh noblewoman comes with him or not.

Riordan steps forward, as the women leave him, his eyes seeking out Gedeon's banner, held by the one to whom the fallen bastard was sworn to. "Ser Anton, as Ser Gedeon was sworn to you, I leave it to you to see to his body. If you require any assistance, it will be given. I expect all here to afford Ser Gedeon the proper respect due to a knight. Whatever else he was, he was that." He glances around, at to make sure all here his words. And then the Regent of Stonebridge will move to depart with his family, leaving guards behind to see to the calm dispersal of the crowd.

Tears slipping down her cheeks, Danae limply pulls her fingers from Rosanna's arm and releases her gently. When the last blow has fallen, the Lady Westerling steps forward and moves onto the bridge with simple, gliding steps. Her chin is held high and the edges of her gown lift the blood left puddled on the stone as she moves towards the fallen Tordane.

Rafferdy watches the end, and his eyes move first to Rowenna. He watches her, with Jarod, and then begins to move through the crowd himself, heading back towards town.

Justin gives Anais a nod, "I'm sure Oldstones will, but I'll take care of it if not." Said grimly, he starts to make his way forward as others mill about or drop back. It is to Anton he starts to make his way, that man surely gone to Gedeon's fallen form.

"Lady Danae," Rosanna begins to say, but she stops with a lingering frown as the Westerling moves towards the fallen knight. She steps back to Kittridge, sliding her hand back onto his arm.

Biting her lip, the young Lady Haigh smothers any sigh that might have escaped her. Briallyn flexes aching fingers, smooths her cloak over the russet and gold silk of her dress and falls in line behind the Westerling knight with a small shake of her head.

Rygar pulls the gory weapon loose from his fallen foe. Planting the butt of the weapon the the bloody stone underfoot, he leans a measure of his weight upon the weapon as discreetly as he can, as he turns to face the dead knight's oncoming Second. Then Riordan speaks, and the stern Nayland turns without more than a moment's regard to Ser Anton. A deep breath is drawn- not without difficulty to offer aloud to the Stonebridge folk in attendance, "To the true Tordane line!"

Reaching where the body lays, Danae looks from Ser Anton towards Ser Rygar with clear blue eyes, reddened from the tears that continue to slip down her cheeks. Her face is perfectly placid as she regards the Valentin Lord with a curious cock of her head. "Lord Anton, I would have my husband's sword," she requests, loud enough that her voice rings out after Riordan's cry to the public.

Kamron looks back to Muirenn, nodding his head once, "They will not do any more harm to his body, Lady Muirenn." He nods as well to Justin, then gestures to the bridge as Riordin steps forward to call out to Ser Anton. His jaw clenches at Rygar's words, but he does not contest them. Danae's words, however, draw a blink, and a frown, looking over to the Mallisters and Terricks gathered nearby, "Her husband? I did not know that Ser Gedeon had married."

Anton wastes no time approaching Gedeon's body, eyes on Ser Rygar and the Naylands all the while. As Riordan steps forward, his hand goes to the pommel of his sword, ready to draw. It linger until Riordan has spoken, and the Knight of Oldstones answers him with a bare, but polite, nod. Back to Gedeon he turns, bending to take up that knight's sword, and as Rygar shouts, he turns to the approaching Danae, "Lady Tordane," he bows at her words, and offers to her the still-bloody blade of the late Geoffrey and latest Gedeon, "It is yours. May your son bear it well one day. To the true Tordane line."

Rebekkah is about to signal for her bearers to depart, but when she sees, and hears, Danae, she holds up a hand. "One moment, Roslyn, dear. This display looks like it might be interesting."

Riordan's steps slow as Rygar speaks to him, and he offers the man a nod. But it is the female voice that stops him in his tracks. All blood drains from his face, for a moment. And then he speaks. "And to Tordane's Champion, Ser Rygar Nayland." His words are clear, ringing out like a bell. And then he leaves, without a look back at the dead man, or his widow.

If Martyn has heard what's been said since the duel's end, he doesn't show it. He remains standing where he is, watching the happenings now. A number of thoughts going through his head, no doubt. As Danae makes her way towards the body, he raises an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on her for now. Blinking a few times as he hears the words, he keeps quiet for now, just listening and watching.

Anais's steps pause for just a moment when she hears Rygar's pronouncement, but she doesn't look back, her spine straight and shoulders square. Until, that is, someone says husband. Whatever she says under her breath is enough to make the former Banefort guard at her side arch a brow.

Tia is simply standign where she is, not moving, not saying a word. Just staring, for the longest time. And then she does step forward, making sure she can hear what is happening. Her face is pale, she's still trembling, her eyes haunted, but she's here and listening.

Valda finishes her approach as Rygar shouts, then looks over to the nearby Danae and Anton. "Actually, I am the only Lady Tordane. Gedeon was not sworn, and was therefore never instated as a Tordane. If his widow is to bear a child, it shall be a Rivers. Although you must have known that." A small, icy smile curves her lips.

Assisted by her Septa and maidservent, the abnormally pale Muirenn lets her retainer Heurtebise wrangle the chairs. Moving towards her brother, the girl stops and whispers, "What does she mean husband, Martyn? I did not think Ser Tordane was wed."

"What?" Rosanna exclaims in a distinctly unladylike fashion. She stares at Danae with wide, shocked eyes.

Danae's, then Ser Anton's words stop Justin. He stays back a few steps, watchful of their exchange and waiting to give Lord Anton assistance with the fallen man, if he will have it. His own gaze studies Lady Danae. Justin then studies Lady Valda, whom he has not met before.

"Huh…" Jarod Nee Rivers isn't quite out of ear-shot when Danae makes her announcement. He is a surprised bastard. He comes to a stop along with Rowenna, also turning to stare at Danae.

Rygar pauses in his planned withdrawal to turn a look back over his shoulder as Danae Westerling steps forward and requests the sword. The word 'husband' draws his cold blue eye. A short sniff meets the unfolding knowledge, and the stern Nayland resumes his prior course back into the township of Stonebridge.

The strawberry-haired Banefort looks between Murienn and Kamron, and her mouth thins a bit. It is then that her gaze falls back on the fallen Tordane and his now widow. She can feel that strange tension, nervous and anxious, building in her gut. "King Robert might have something to say about that," Saffron says in a very low voice that hardly carries beyond the clutch of Mallisters and Terricks around her.

"They are withdrawing," Roslyn murmurs quietly, her gaze trailing after her brother and cousin. But, she remains at her grandmother's side as long as the older woman wishes to stay.

Slender hands extend to extent Lord Anton's passing of her husband's sword on for her to hold — a legacy wrapped in steel and in blood. "I thank you, Lord Ser Valentin, my true born son shall wear it proudly," Danae replies, normally quiet voice pitched to carry and resonant among the crowd. In blood soaked whites, she stands tall and proud as she recieves the blade and lets her pale eyed gaze slide among those who had gathered to see the spectacle. They linger on Rygar's back as he heads back towards town, sharp and daring. "Ser Rygar fought well for the Naylands," she stresses, "Let him wear his victory well." Dipping her chin, Danae looks down to the prone figure of her late husband and bends to close his eyes with her own hands.

Kamron nods his head to Saffron, although he keeps his eyes on the bridge, "If she carries Ser Gedeon Tordane's child, and they were married, that child is heir to Stonebridge." The words are quiet, not meant to carry beyond the little group, "If she can prove it." He lets out a short, sharp huff of breath, "Gods… this just got even uglier. And I didn't think that was possible."

"I would think any child sired in wedlock by Ser Gedeon would be a Tordane, for The King himself stated his legitimacy." Muirenn murmers low to Saffron. "That the rather ill mannered woman across the way states otherwise does not make her words truth." She extends an arm, "Would you care to return to the Darant estate with me lady Banefort?"

Rebekkah snorts at Roslyn, giving her granddaughter a pointed look. She is not missing this carriage wreck, young lady, thank you very much.

Still keeping silent, Martyn just watches the people for now, pausing for a little while as he hears Muirenn's words. "I don't know…" he replies, shaking his head a little bit slowly. Listening more now. "I suppose they were…" Nodding a little bit as he listens to what's being said now, shaking his head a bit. "Some days, I wish I was…" Trailing off as he shakes his head again.

If the Terricks are going to support Danae's claim, it isn't going to come from Anais, and it isn't going to come at the moment. The Lady Terrick does look back, considering the woman for a moment, then turns to continue back to her horse and Terrick's Roost.

"Remember my suggestion that it would be wise to look out for Ser Gedeon's safety, Ser Kamron?" Saffron says in a soft voice to the Mallister knight. "You may find it useful to perhaps look after the Lady Tordane with the same care." And she smiles a bit ghostly to Kamron before hse looks to Murienn, and her gaze debates between joining the Mallister woman and staying to hear the aftermath. "In a moment, Lady Murienn…" And then she looks over toward Anais with the slightest question in the uplift of her coppery brows.

Anneke goes to kneel by the fallen knight, his blood staining her gown. There she will remain until his body is borne away. Later, she and Marsden the Half-Septon will share the melancholy duty of preparing Gedeon Tordane for his final rest. For now, she simply holds vigil, fingers combing numbly through his sweat-matted, gore-caked hair.

Valda actually laughs, although her eyes are the color and temperature of ice. "Good thing the pregnancy is already being announced, so we know the babe was sired before wedlock and is again a bastard. Fabulous. You lot do know how to take the edge off." With that, she turns and moves along with the Naylands toward Tordane Tower, already giving instructions to servants regarding her presence being required when the maester's check the wounds. She makes no bones about being quite certain Gedeon stooped to poison and she wants the effects reversed immediately.

"When did they get married?" Rosanna says in a flatly baffled voice, ostensibly to Kittridge next to her, but — you know.

"So kind Lady Valda, perhaps you'd reconsider that position — having previously seen the repercussions at your own cost?" Danae smiles prettily towards the departing Castellan, hands wrapped around the bloodied blade of her husband. "A wedding was held and witnessed by the eyes of the gods. This is to be no child of wedlock but an heir of blood," she declares, voice resonant and strong as it rings out. When the Castellen does not respond, she simply nods and sinks to her knees next to her husband's body.

The vitrol spewed already in addition to watching yet another pointless death is more than enough for Muirenn. She merely inclines her head to Saffron and then continues on towards the estate where she is staying until she returns to Four Eagles in the morning. Arm in arm with her Septa, she moves slowly whispering to her maid "So many deaths Minnie, so much heartache…people can be so cruel to each other. It is a wonder the Gods do not wipe us from the face of the world and start anew." Eventually her tall, fragile form disappears in the distance.

"You are welcome, Lady Tordane," says Lord Ser Anton. He stands beside her for a moment, and then turns to head back towards Anneke and the fallen knight. He crouches low, and picks up the body of the maile-clad knight in his arms, instructing his castellan simply, "Get his helm." He nods to Danae, and murmurs, "Well done, Lady." And then he rises and carries Ser Gedeon away, out of Stonebridge a final time.

"C'mon," Jarod says low to Rowenna again, as Danae sinks to the ground next to Gedeon. Whatever more there is, he's again at a point where he seems disinclined to linger to see it.

Kamron shakes his head slightly at Saffron's words, nodding as he does at the other Mallisters speaking, "We should be sure that…" he flounders a moment, then gestures up to where Danae stands on the bridge, "the lady's claims are true… both about the marriage and about the child and it's timing." The younger Mallister knight gestures to Saffron again, "But I agree that making sure she is safe while we determine these things is a good idea."

Tiaryn hasn't moved to the bridge, though she's easily within earshot now. But as more and more folks leave, she finally sets foot on the bridge. She drops in a curtsey as Ser Anton passes, then rises to her feet to stand there, her gaze finding the pools of blood remaining on the bridge in apparent fascinated horror. One hand moves to her abdomen, and her fingers clench into fists.

"No idea," Kittridge replies to his sister, shaking his head. He shakes it again, and then pours himself more wine, and gives a tug on his sister's arm. "Come on," he says, pulling her to leave, though he heads not back into down but towards the deserted opposite river bank and the path along it.

Rosanna's gaze lingers on Danae, even when Kittridge begins to tug her away. But she finally relents, drawing with him towards the opposite river bank. "Where are we going?" she says with a hint of a whine.