Household guards usually draw their arms and armor from their employer.
Also, do you mean common soldier? Because men-at-arms tended to carry multiple weapons as a matter of course.
Just a backup in advance of the detumblring
Household guards usually draw their arms and armor from their employer.
Also, do you mean common soldier? Because men-at-arms tended to carry multiple weapons as a matter of course.
Well, Davos has “choice lands on Cape Wrath, a small keep, and a knight’s honors,” so he probably does have some men he can call up for military service. Most likely, those men made up the officers and marines on board Black Betha.
I mean, people tried…
It means the same thing as it does in our world: you find the original creditors of a given person and you offer them money (preferably less than the full value of the debt) to hand over the right to repayment for the original loan. And then you either try to collect the debt or you threaten to in order to get the debtor to do what you want.
Good question.
According to Aeneas Tacticus, author of the 4th century BCE best-seller How to Survive under Siege, key targets for treachery are social minorities, exiles, the families of hostages, and foreign mercenaries.
This is doubly true for any of them who are working as gatekeepers or guards, because those are the people who are physically closest to the enemy and could be communicated with more easily.
But in terms of how you contact them, you get close to the walls and shout up to people, or you send in written letters, or you set up a parlay and use the opportunity to have your envoy talk to people face-to-face, or you send in a spy, etc.
It’s not true that bastards never inherit – Alyn Velaryon did, Bran considers making Larence Snow the heir to Hornwood, etc. – but it’s extremely rare. So Catelyn’s not entirely wrong about the potential domestic politics in the long-term.
But she is taking the worst-case scenario. The Blackfyres are at one end of the spectrum, but the Longwaters are another possible outcome, and there are clearly others (as we can see from Westerosi heraldry).
I wouldn’t call Catelyn paranoid, because I don’t think her feeling toward Jon is primarily motivated by fear.
There’s a couple options:
It is ahistorical but not as ahistorical as you might think. Henry II, the king portrayed in the Lion in Winter, supposedly understood English but didn’t speak it.
The shift of the Plantaganets from Norman French speakers to English speakers was a gradual one: Edward I learned English as a child, Edward III was bilingual with French as his primary language but enacted the Statute of Pleading which changed the language of the courts from Law French to English, Richard II spoke English very well and his uncle John of Gaunt was a patron and drinking buddy of Geoffrey Chaucer, and Henry IV was a native speaker of English.
It’s about divorcing doing the right thing from social rewards and status–the former does not automatically lead to the latter, and achieving the latter doesn’t mean you’ve accomplished the former. Sansa was brought up equating the two, because the songs and stories she loved told her that’s how it worked. If you save the day, you get the crown and the beautiful girl, and if you’re, say, an attractive blond prince, you must be a good person. She learns better by the end of the first book.
The triumph comes from facing a situation in which you will not be rewarded for doing the right thing–it might even get you killed–but you do it anyway, to emphasize that heroism means something more than being the main character and ending up on top at the end.
“No chance, and no choice” from Brienne VII AFFC is probably the best example in ASOIAF. Brienne is heavily outnumbered by Rorge’s wrecking crew and knows she is almost certainly screwed if she steps out from the shadows and challenges them. She could very easily hide, let them inflict horrors on the kids at the inn, and move on safe and sound when they’re gone. But despite having “no chance,” she takes them on anyway, because in order to be the true knight she wants to be despite everyone telling her she can’t, she has “no choice” but to defend those kids to the last breath. After all: “I charge you to be brave, I charge you to be just, I charge you to defend the young and innocent.” Like her ancestor Dunk, she’s “a knight who remembered his vows” while technically having never taken those vows–again, this is the author separating the values of knighthood from the social systems in which they’re embedded. Gregor may have been anointed by the crown prince himself, but “he was no true knight” where it counts.
See also Waymar Royce’s brave last stand against the Others in the series’ opening pages, demonstrating there’s more to him than bluster and arrogance, or Davos doggedly sticking to his mission in White Harbor even though the reasons to turn back keep piling up, or Stannis telling Jon that he intends to let the wildlings through the Wall despite the certainty that this will hurt his prospects with the Northern nobility because “when the cold winds rise, we shall live or die together.” There’s an immense catharsis to be found in these moments, in which characters go through intense crucibles and discover what their values really are when the pretense of being rewarded for them is stripped away.
Excellent!
To add one point, it’s not just “divorcing doing the right thing from social rewards and status,” it’s also about choosing to do the right thing even if you might not succeed in accomplishing your goal. Hence why we append “existential” from Existentialist philosophy – a school of thought that argued that the universe lacks inherent meaning and that the individual creates meaning in spite of it – to the term.
Thus(to introduce a couple more examples), Syrio Forel wins an existential triumph because he makes the decision to remain true to his beliefs (what Camus called perseverance), even if means his own death; indeed, even if Arya had been captured anyway. Just as Yoren’s last stand in defense of his charges and the values of the Night’s Watch is not diminshed by the fact that he fails, Syrio’s triumph is not dependent on the practical outcome of his actions.
Well, I’ve talked about the prizes recently.
But when it comes to the penalty, yes that’s accurate. Most tourney knights made their money off of ransoms and not prizes, since there were many more of the former than the latter in each tourney.
However, you have to keep in mind the class and class mentality of the participants involved. Tourneys were a pastime of the nobility, not that much different from hunts or feasts or dances, so it was expected that the combatants in a tourney were A. rich enough to be able to ransom themselves/their arms/horses and B. not supposed to be concerned about money.
To use your sports analogy, imagine if you had to be in the top 5% of incomes and wealth to play in the NFL at all.