Dunk reached for his hand. "Ser Lyonel, I cannot thank you enough for coming, nor Ser Steffon for bringing you." "Ser Steffon?" Ser Lyonel gave him a puzzled look. "It was your squire who came to me. The boy, Aegon." (The Hedge Knight)

The third of the white knights was down, and the Laughing Storm had joined Prince Baelor against Prince Maekar. […] Maekar was taking three blows for every one he landed, and Dunk could see that it would be over soon. I must make an end to it before more of us are killed. (The Hedge Knight)

"Are you certain you want me to fight on Ser Duncan's side?" Lyonel Baratheon questioned Egg. "I would be fighting against your own father. I am by way of being a redoubtable warrior myself, though not yet as famous as the great Prince Maekar, of course. One of my blows might land on your father's stone-cold stubborn head. Have you thought of that?"

"My father is more than able to look after himself, ser. He was killing men in battle long before you were laughing at your first tourney opponent," replied Egg, with some asperity.

A variety of expressions flitted across the Laughing Storm's face, one after another. Egg wondered if he was about to take offence, but then he laughed, an amused laughter, very different from the booming laughter he employed to unsettle his tourney opponents.

"Prickly, are you, about your father's prowess in battle being questioned? No man shall speak ill of my father, or he will have to answer to me. What a touching display of filial devotion. And yet … you and your father are on opposite sides regarding this trial of seven."

"My father is wrong, ser, on this matter."

"And you want to prove him wrong, of course. Oh, I understand completely. Sons have been trying to prove their fathers wrong since the beginning of time. Not me, though. My father died when I was a mere babe still suckling on my wet nurse's teats. Proving my grandfatherwrong is what brings me great joy, and what gives my life meaning and purpose," Ser Lyonel said, in a wry tone.

Egg did not quite know how to react to this.

Lyonel Baratheon continued, "My grandfatherwould tell me to refuse you with a resolute 'no,' which makes me more inclined to do the opposite. Is it the same with you and your father?"

Egg recoiled at the comparison. "It's not about proving my father wrong, ser. I love my father. And because I love my father, I do not want him to be the cause of a great injustice that he will regret for the rest of his life. And he will be the cause of that great injustice, if Ser Duncan dies. And … well, I do not want Ser Duncan to die. He's … he's –"

"You have grown fond of this hedge knight, I suppose?"

Egg did not deny it.

"What about your brothers? Are you as convinced of their prowess in combat as you are of your father's?"

"My brother Daeron says he will lie down in the field, to save himself from being hit. As for Aerion … he means to kill Ser Duncan, ser, come hell or high water. It is not right, that Ser Duncan should die because he protected the innocent, as every true knight must."

"You will not be shedding any tears, then, if my blows land on Prince Aerion's head?"

"Not if it is done to protect Ser Duncan's life, ser," said Egg, resolutely.

As it turned out, none of Lyonel Baratheon's blows landed on Prince Aerion's head. Ser Duncan took care of that all on his own. He was felled by a blow from Aerion's morningstar, at the start, but even as Egg was still desperately praying for him to get up, he had found the strength to fight back, to rain his own blows on Aerion.

Almost done, Egg thought, with relief. Aerion would yield, surely, very soon. Ser Duncan was getting the better of him, and the fear in Aerion's eyes was something Egg never thought he would ever, ever see. Aerion, who had loved nothing better than terrifying others, was now reduced to a quivering mess himself. Daeron had already yielded, and if both Daeron and Aerion yielded and withdrew their accusations, then the battle would be over, and Ser Duncan would be judged not guilty.

But then, from the corner of his eyes, Egg spied his father trying to make his way to Aerion's side. His father must mean to rain his own blows on Ser Duncan, to assist Aerion. Egg's heart big and as strong as Ser Duncan was, surely even he could not defeat both Prince Maekar and Prince Aerion at the same time. Aerion's morningstar was lying useless on the field, but Maekar's mace was looming threateningly in his hand.

Father, no! Egg started to scream, but the words died somewhere between his throat and his mouth. "Yield, you fool!" he shouted instead, to Aerion, but his words were drowned out by the incessant noise of the crowd. "Ser, ser! My father! Look out for my father," he shouted, to Ser Duncan, also to no avail. Ser Duncan's eyes were fixed on Aerion, and only Aerion, blind to the threat of Aerion's father coming his way.

Uncle Baelor had seen, though. Uncle Baelor planted himself squarely in Father's way, preventing Father from getting closer to where Ser Duncan and Aerion were still fighting. Egg could have cried with relief. They would not harm each other, his father and his uncle. Uncle Baelor would hold off Father long enough for Ser Duncan to force Aerion to yield, and then the battle would be over. Father would be angry with Uncle Baelor for a while, certainly, but eventually they would reconcile and come together once more. They always did, in the past, no matter what was the cause of their quarrel.

Egg's eyes were fixed on Ser Duncan and Aerion, anticipating the end, so he missed Ser Lyonel joining the battle between his father and his uncle. When he looked again, his father was fending off blows from both Ser Lyonel and Uncle Baelor, lashing out his mace furiously, forcefully, and desperately, but landing manifestly fewer blows than the barrage he was taking.

Egg did not truly comprehend what he was seeing, at first.

Oh, but surely …

It can't be!

One of my blows might land on your father's stone-cold stubborn head. Have you thought of that?

It couldn't be true, thought Egg. His father could not truly be in danger of losing his life. His prowess in battle was second only to Uncle Baelor in the whole of the realm. The Laughing Storm was a tourney knight, not a man who had been tested and retested in multiple battles like Prince Maekar.

I went to him. I was the one. The one who pleaded with Ser Lyonel to be one of Ser Duncan's defenders.

I had to! If I had not done so, Ser Duncan could be dead by now. Ser Lyonel held off the three Kingsguards from striking Ser Duncan.

But what if his father were to die from a blow by Lyonel Baratheon's hand? It would mean … it would mean that he … that Egg himself …

Egg could not finish the thought. He dared not. Heartsick with despair, he wanted to close his eyes as tightly as possible, and to sink down to his knees so the ground could swallow him whole. Or, better still, to run away from the field, as far away as possible. But he forcedhimself to stay on his feet, to keep his eyes wide open, to look, to watch, to see. He must not look away. His father would be ashamed of him if he looked away, if he refused to see the result of his –

And then … it ended. It actually ended. "I withdraw my accusation," Aerion said, finally said, after Ser Duncan had dragged him across the field to where Lord Ashford was sitting. His father was still standing, Egg saw, and so was Uncle Baelor. Ser Duncan, on the other hand, looked ready to drop. Egg hesitated, for a moment or two, before his feet moved towards Ser Duncan's direction. The boy could not have answered, had you asked him, whether he went where he went because he remembered his duty as Ser Duncan's squire, or because he feared that the sight of him was the last thing his father would wish to see at that moment.