The celebrity Super Bowl pick is a time-honored tradition, one we at KSK are always happy to take part in. For the next two weeks, stars from all over the world will drop in to make their picks. Today, it’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” author George R. R. Martin.
The two sons of House Harbaugh brought their armies to Cajun’s Landing, the convivial host for the king’s tournament final. The location choice for the competition struck many as odd. The locals made no secret that they held the king in contempt. In turn, the king showed little regard for them. He had cut down their champion just months prior for reasons that were unclear to all but the king himself. The wound was still fresh.
Profane taunts were hurled at the king’s procession as he entered the gates of the city. Effigies of him were burnt and pelted with feces for days leading up to his arrival. He paid this no mind. There were other matters that required his attention. What’s more, their impotent anger only made his treachery all the more satisfying.
Bitterness abounded in the city. It would soon abate. For the people of Cajun’s Landing, the demand for hedonism trumped the desire for vengeance. These were a people who derived pride in their lust for carnal pleasure above all else. To not indulge now would be a greater betrayal to themselves than anything the king had done. For days, they f*cked and drank and f*cked and danced and f*cked and consumed gumbo in great volumes. It was not long until most had forgotten that the king was even there.
When at last the day of the competition arrived, the air was thick was f*ck fumes, sh*t vapor and the stale breath of the king himself. Custom dictated that the combatants met for words before battle was commenced. The king was not about the change this, especially when those doing battle were kin. In fact, he looked forward to what words a lifetime of anger would produce than the battle itself. He had seen enough battle in his life to find it boring. Hatred and its complexities was the only thing that intrigued him still.
The king addressed the crowd and introduced the contestants with predictable unction. The brothers did not break their stare until the king forced them to address one another. Jim smiled thinly. “Who’s got it better than us?” he asked.
Wordlessly, John’s throat tightened. He hated the expression, its self-satisfied tone and the man who uttered it with great frequency. The Harbaughs were known as a family quick to anger, but here John paused. Sir Stabby did not. Violent, spasmodic motions erupted from behind John. The crowd was awakened from their stupor by the sellsword’s jerky dance to the Old Gods.
Sir Stabby was regarded as the most renowned of all sellswords. Though he had grown long in the tooth and his ability had waned, few questioned his bloodlust. That bloodlust would at last be slaked that day. It would have to be.
Stabby had been around since the last days of dragons. He would not live to see the next age of dragons. For at last, the new age had –
[Super Bowl pick to be completed in 2017]