Carliene Stark

II Chapter 17

Carliene

"Do you see the sigils on the wall?" Olenna Tyrell pondered as Elyn filled her plate with turnips and pheasant and white broth. 

My eyes wandered across the orange stone and the colourful banners decorating them. 

"Tell me, what houses do they belong to?"

I chewed on the onion in my mouth a little longer than was necessary to buy myself some time. One house I could easily recognise, just as I had its Lord. "Orange and black butterflies on a white field, House Mullendore" I recalled, gently pointing across the room where the aged banner hung.

Olenna did not object so I concluded that I had been right. 

The banner next to it was striped black and yellow with three beehives at its centre and its house easily enough to remember. "House Beesbury" Then I was at a loss, the many colours and symbols not forming any connections in my mind. My gaze fell on the maesters table again, where three of House Hightower's vassals sat. I had already recognised Lord Mullendore and by the colour of their tunics one of the other two had to be Lord Beesbury, which only left one other that, judging by the colour of his tunic also had to have a yellow or black and yellow sigil. There was only one such banner remaining: quartered a black rose on yellow and a silver chalice on black. Unfortunately the symbols gave no hint of the house's name and the only other house I could remember to be sworn to the Hightowers was house Cuy. "Black and yellow, chalice and rose - House Cuy?" I stated though my doubt was heavy in my tone. 

The old rose followed my gaze to the banner I was looking at. "House Costayne of Three Towers" she corrected. "We passed their castle on our voyage here" then she nodded to the Bannermen, who by now were talking loudly and raising their cups to their Lord's health. "Lord Tommen Costayne unhorsed my son in a tourney once" she gestured to the old man in the faded yellow tunic, which, along with his white beard by now was speckled with brown sauce. "I believe he still tells the story to this day" she sounded almost amused.

I raised a brow at the feeble looking man.

"They were both younger then" she added. 

And Mace Tyrell was still alive. I was saved from having to recite more knowledge on houses, or sigils I did not know, when a bard entered. He introduced himself as Orland of Oldtown and I could have sworn I had heard that name before, but then again King's Landing was like a magnet for bards, mummers and other oddities. 

For a bard his dress was quite simple. With leather breeches a vest of dyed leather above a white tunic. He had a golden harp with him and bowed deeply before the Lord's table. 

"My Lords" he greeted. "My Ladies" his smile wandered from one royal woman to the next. "In honour of the Reach and the great house of Tyrell I give you: A rose of gold" he announced proudly. 

Olenna scoffed next to me. "How original"

I was more excited. Of all the ladylike activities Septa Mordane had instructed us in, the only one I had truly formed a liking to was singing. It may well have been the only shared interest connecting me and my younger sister and I always enjoyed learning new songs. Especially if they told stories. So I leaned forward in my chair as the bard began to sing in a beautifully clear voice.

The field was green on a summer day

where I stopped to take a rest

And of all of the flowers standing there

I liked the roses best.