The Hedge Knight - A Tale of the Seven Kingdoms

Aug 25, 2026

391

Uploaded by Rowan

A hedge knight named Dunk buries his aging companion after harsh spring weather leaves him unable to ride. Alone with grief and limited knowledge, Dunk tries to honor the man with simple words, then turns to practical survival: managing horses, weapons, and the meager wealth they carried. As he sets out toward Ashford, he reflects on the hedge knight’s life and debates his next role. The story opens with the burdens of duty, loss, and uncertainty before a new day’s choices arrive.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryStory & Novel

FormatPDF

Pages82

Reading Time2 h 6 min

AccessFree to download

Story opening and burial

Dunk’s companion dies

Reflecting on a hedge knight’s life

Preparing for the journey

Possessions, horses, and gear

Heading to the inn and meeting a boy

T HE H EDGE K NIGHT A Tale of the Seven Kingdoms George R. R. Martin The story offered here takes place about a hundred years prior to the events described in “A Game of Thrones” The spring rains had softened the ground, so Dunk had no trouble digging the grave. He chose a spot on the western slope of a low hill, for the oldman had always loved to watch the sunset.“Another day done,” he would sigh,“and who knows what the morrow will bring us, eh, Dunk?” Well, one morrow had brought rains that soaked them to the bones, and the one after had brought wet gusty winds, and the next a chill. By the fourth day the old man was too weak to ride. And now he was gone. Only a few days past, he had been singing as they rode, the old song about going to Gulltown to see a fair maid, but instead of Gulltown he’d sung of Ashford. Off to Ashford to see the fair maid, heighho, heigh-ho, Dunk thought miserably as he dug. When the hole was deep enough, he lifted the oldman’s body in his arms and carried him there. He had been a small man, and slim ; stripped of hauberk, helm, and sword belt, he seemed to weigh no more than a bag of leaves. Dunk was hugely tall for his age, a shambling, shaggy, big-boned boy of sixteen or seventeen years (no one was quite certain which) who stood closer to seven feet than to six, and had only just begun to fill out his frame. The old man had often praised his strength. He had always been generous in his praise. It was all he had to give. He laid him out in the bottom of the grave and stood over him for a time. The smell of rain was in the air again, and he knew he ought to fill the hole before the rain broke, but it was hard to throw dirt down on that tired old face. There ought to be a septon here, to say some prayers over him, but he only has me. The old man had taught Dunk all he knew of swords and shields and lances, but had never been much good at teaching him words. “I’d leave your sword, but it would rust in the ground,” he said at last, apologetic.“The gods will give you a new one, I guess. I wish you didn’t die, ser.” He paused, uncertain what else needed to be said. He didn’t know any prayers, not all the way through; the old man had never been much for praying.“You were a true knight, and you never beat me when I didn’t deserve it,” he finally managed,“except that one time in Maidenpool. It was the inn boy who ate the widow woman’s pie, not me, I told you. It don’t matter now. The gods keep you, ser.” He kicked dirt in the hole, then began to fill it methodically, never looking at the thing at the bottom. He had along life, Dunk thought. He must have been closer to sixty than to fifty, and how many men can say that? At least he had lived to see another spring. The sun was westering as he fed the horses. There were three; his swaybacked stot, the old man’s palfrey, and Thunder, his warhorse, who was ridden only in tourney and battle. The big brown stallion was not as swift or strong as he had once been, but he still had his bright eye and fierce spirit, and he was more valuable than everything else Dunk owned. If I sold Thunder and old Chestnut, and the saddles and bridles too, I’d come away with enough silver to…Dunk frowned. The only life he knew was the life of a hedge knight, riding from keep to keep, taking service with this lord and that lord, fighting in their battles and eating in their halls until the war was done, then moving on. There were tourneys from time to time as well, though less often, and he knew that some hedge knights turned robber during lean winters, though the old man never had. I could find another hedge knight in need of a squire to tend his animals and clean his mail, he thought, or might be I could go to some city, to Jannisport or King’s Landing, and join the City Watch. Or else… He had piled the old man’s things under an oak. The cloth purse contained three silver stags, nineteen copper pennies, and a chipped garnet; as with most hedge knights, the grea

FAQs

Why does Dunk bury his old companion?

The old man grows too weak after days of rain, wind, and cold, and he dies shortly afterward. Dunk digs the grave and lays him out before filling it in.

What does Dunk do after the burial?

Dunk gathers the old man’s possessions, evaluates what he can carry and use, and prepares to continue his journey toward Ashford.

How would Dunk describe his usual life as a hedge knight?

He explains that hedge knights move from keep to keep seeking service, fighting in others’ wars, eating in their halls, and sometimes turning to tourneys or robbery in lean times.

Aug 25, 2026

391

Uploaded by Rowan