On the fifth day of Gawen's efforts in the Queen's Quarter, reinforcements from Whisper City arrived at King's Landing.
This force numbered fifty—every one of them Crabb men-at-arms—brought ashore at the Blackwater docks under the charge of Mondon Waters.
The Crab Claw Peninsula shared much with the North: its people were almost all descendants of the First Men, broad of shoulder and tall of frame, with hair and eyes most often black or brown.
(Unlike the Andals, whose features were more varied. Westeros was chiefly composed of the First Men, the Andals, and the Rhoynar—the First Men dominant in the North, the Rhoynar in Dorne, and the Andals in most other realms. Hence the king's full title: King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm…)
From the discipline of his men, Gawen could tell that they had not slackened their training in his absence.
At the Queen's Quarter command post, the new arrivals mustered before him. After reviewing them for a time, their spirit and bearing left Gawen satisfied.
He favored the Crab Claw Peninsula's plain and stalwart soldiers—men who seemed only to wait for his word before taking up the axe.
With such hardy stock, and discipline growing sharper each day, Gawen was confident that House Crabb's host would one day be the finest army in Westeros.
Then his eyes fell upon a young man at the rear of the assembly—one who looked utterly unlike the rest.
He wore a shabby leather jerkin and carried a bow across his back. He seemed Gawen's own age: tall and lean, with a mop of reddish half-curled hair, a face freckled through, and a nervous cast to his features.
Gawen arched a brow and beckoned him forward.
The red-haired youth hesitated, casting a glance toward Mondon Waters, before trotting over.
"Greetings, my lord," he said respectfully. "My name is Anguy."
At the name, Gawen's eyes flickered. "And how did you come here?"
(In the tale to come, Anguy would win the archery contest held at King's Landing to celebrate Eddard Stark's appointment as Hand of the King, and later join the Brotherhood Without Banners, unmatched in his skill with the bow.)
Anguy bowed slightly. "I once joined a sellsword company, but it disbanded. Of late I've lingered at the docks, seeking another company. This morning, I met Ser Mondon there, and he brought me along."
So it was Mondon who, while waiting at the Blackwater docks, had spotted this otherwise unremarkable youth and, by instinct as keen as a beast's, sensed hidden strength.
Trusting that instinct, he had spoken with the boy and brought him here, sure Gawen would approve.
The hulking Mondon appeared at his side now, grinning. "My lord, I thought Anguy's skill worth noting, so I brought him along."
Gawen nodded, then asked, "And what is it you excel at?"
At once Anguy straightened, his voice firm: "My lord, I excel at archery. Wherever I wish my arrow to land—that is where it strikes."
Gawen knew the name: Anguy was a prodigy with the bow. He imagined placing him alongside Mondon—one master of close combat, the other of the long shot—their strengths complementing one another as his personal guards.
Bodyguards to a lord were no mere soldiers; they were his confidants. To appoint a newcomer so swiftly might stir resentment among the men—but not if the man's talent was undeniable.
Gawen sat, clapped his hands to draw the soldiers' eyes, and said: "Anguy, show us your skill."
Anguy scanned the crowd, then the sky above. Calmly, he drew an arrow from his quiver and planted it upright in the earth. With wiry strength, he sank half the shaft into the ground.
He stepped back, nocked another arrow to his bow, and drew until the string trembled full.
The motion was smooth, natural, suffused with confidence.
He loosed. The arrow hissed skyward, vanishing into the clouds.
Moments later it returned, shrieking as it fell—striking clean upon the arrow in the earth. With a sharp crack, the grounded shaft split in two and the falling arrow drove itself deep into the soil.
A feat near to sorcery.
The men burst into exclamations of awe.
Gawen smiled, satisfied. Before all present, he named Anguy as his sworn bodyguard.
From that moment, Anguy, like Mondon, was bound to his side.
The young archer, born a commoner, could not hide his elation. To be made a lord's bodyguard was often the first step toward knighthood. For a man of low birth, it meant the chance to climb beyond his station.
Overcome, Anguy fell to one knee and cried his thanks.
Gawen smiled kindly and waved him up, nodding for the beaming Mondon to take him and see him settled.
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