My mate Steve is one of the most fanciful fellows you’re ever likely to meet. Steve has something of a chaotic sexual history, the kind of man who might find himself in bed with a supermodel one day and a grandma the next, and treat them with the same reverence and gratitude that a dying man might greet a cup of water.
Like some sort of demented magnet, Steve seems to attract strange sexual energy, and as such has acquired a uniquely practical and philosophical understanding of human sexual mores and experiences.
So when I got a message ping from Steve on Monday afternoon - before I’d had a chance to flick on this week’s episode - I shouldn’t have been surprised to read the following:
I don’t know if you have recapped ep2 of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, but I’ll be disappointed if you don’t mention the insanely huge schlong that appears in the first minute of the episode.
He went on:
My god, if only I could be endowed like that. I could give up my day job and make sooo much money in adult films.
At this point I chastised Steve for spoiling me on what would have been quite the surprise package. Having said that - WOAAAHHHH BABY WHAT A SURPRISE PACKAGE.
The show is now two for two on the early featuring of private parts. Last week it was the pre-credits pooping, this week’s it’s a post-priapism phallus.
We all thought Taylor Swift singing about Travis Kelce’s redwood tree was the most interesting arboreal metaphor in recent pop culture, but here comes a Pennytree to have Steve leading us in a cry of “Timberrrrrr!”
The hilarious thing of course is that the cock of the walk happened to be crowing on a man whom I would absolutely never want within three feet of me. Which, to be fair, is the minimum amount you would need to not be near him, if you get my drift.
Ser Arlan of Pennytree, Dunk’s beloved(?) mentor, is pictured taking a post-coital morning ablution - bravely wrangling his hose without the assistance of a team of firefighters - before checking a suppurating wound on his arm which may have been what ultimately killed him.
He looks dirty, and putrid, and fetid, and repulsive. The visuals that show what we assume are his last few months (possibly days) alive undermine Dunk’s impassioned voice over spruiking his humble but fierce fighting persona - but look, Steve’s not wrong. That’s one big ol’ schlong.
When I later confirmed to Steve that Ser Arlan’s Dollar-and-a-Half-Tree was in fact a prosthetic, his enthusiasm remained un-flaccid.
That is brilliant! Imagine having the job of being a prosthetics designer and you get the brief to create a 10" dong.
This is what I mean about Steve. Endlessly cock-timistic.
While there’s more than enough dick-swinging in this episode, for me the greater theme was that of memory, and whether or not it persists.
S1E2: Hard Salt Beef (really guys? Come on now)
Ser Arlan certainly put the “member” into “remember”.
But it seems not even his legendary longsword was enough to leave an impression on most of the lords gathered for the Ashford Ren Fayre, sorry, Tourney.
Dunk even espoused Ser Arlan’s virtues(?) to a Tyrell - the big house of The Reach - claiming that Ser Arlan preached that hedge knights were the bridge between lords and the small folk.
“Was he a shit knight?” Egg asks again with all the diplomacy of a bat. “Nuh-uh!” protests Dunk, who starting to panic due to his lack of reference options for the big re-enactment, sorry, joust.
"Why do you treat these royal lapdogs like they’re your betters?” Egg continues.
“They are my betters,” Dunk says meekly, which we all know instinctively to be utterly, utterly wrong, because Dunk is a big pure lovely bunny whom we have all sworn to protect forever.
Egg suggests some creative uses for a lance, before he is interrupted by SOME PROPER GODDAMNED MEDIEVAL TRUMPETS.
Honestly, I was delighted. I don’t even think in the first season of Game of Thrones, before Robert Baratheon got oinked and everything went pear-shaped, that they had much in the way of PROPER GODDAMNED MEDIEVAL TRUMPETS.
But what do the PROPER GODDAMNED MEDIEVAL TRUMPETS mean?
The Targaryens are coming! The Targaryens are coming!
Dunk is confused about this grand arrival, and a small man nearby is not very kind about it, asking “Can’t you see the banners you giant c***?”
Egg, who only moments before rejected Dunk’s suggestion that he go back to their camp, sees this impressive display of fluttering three-headed dragon banners and promptly bounces.
We met a bunch of Targaryens this episode - and oh! for the days when there was only one Blondie to remember.
Despite flicking the subtitles on for a second viewing, I eventually had to do some cautious searching to establish exactly who’s who - particularly since some of these Targaryens seem rather less blond than others.
And it showed how out of practice I am at the heraldry of it all. The salt and pepper fox who definitely runs the show was introduced as “Prince Baelor Targaryen, Firstborn son of King Daeron the Good, Prince of Dragonstone, Hand of the King and Heir to the Iron Throne” and I forgot that all of those titles could apply to one person.
Then there’s another blonder, more pissy-looking fellow who’s simply introduced as “And his brother… Prince Meerkat.”
OK, ok, it’s technically Maeker, but it sounds close enough to Meerkat to ensure he will now forever be dubbed so.
Dunk, who blends into the castle structure by resembling one of its columns, then meets another pointy-faced Blondie who seems imposing until his dismounts and proceeds to disappear into the gravel. I’m not height-shaming, and everyone’s small next to Dunk, but Blondie is LITTLE, yo.
Thanks to subtitles, we work out his name is Aerion, which sounds more like a model of a car, or a hair-dryer unit. “The Dyson Aerion, for easier styling and less heat damage.”
Blondie mistakes our humble hedge knight for a stablehand, and then a servant.
“I have the honour of being a knight,” Dunk says, attempting to hide his imposter syndrome.
“Far out, knighthood’s up shit creek,” Blondie retorts, disappearing just before his horse rears and kicks another stablehand in the face.
Dunk displays MAX SEXINESS by immediately calming the horse with his big steady hands and uh, I’ve never wanted to be a horse more. Tame me, baby. Oh gods sorry I’m getting inappropriate.
Dunk’s tender whispering to the horse is interrupted by two WHITE ROBOT DISCO KINGS.
Seriously, what happened to the Kingsguard uniform? When Jaime Lannister sassed about in it, the white was almost an accent, with more of a gold or brassy overall effect.
These dudes look like they f***ed a fridge on Cocaine Mountain.
The dudes in question are Ser Roland Crakehall and Ser Donnel of Duskendale, and I’m sure I won’t offend the LGBT+ community when I say those are some HELLA gay names. Cher is cranked to 11 in their mess hall.
Ser Roland is looking for appropriate toilet facilities, with four ply and the fancy foaming hand wash, so doesn’t stick around.
Dunk agrees with Ser Donnel that Ser Roland will likely have to use hay on his Crakehall at some point during the Ren Fayre, because authenticity is key at these events. I know some groups who do the Abbey Medieval Festival north of Brisbane have strict “no jewellery, no visible tattoos, no coloured hair” rules regarding attendance, no sign whatsoever of Ye Things of Newe.
Perhaps some might sneak a few rolls of Kleenex Cottonelle into the privvy, but I imagine many relish the opportunity to make like the bear and do their number 2 re-enactments in the woods.
Which is probably why it pissed them off so much when the incomparable Stuart Layt turned up one year dressed like this:
Dunk takes the opportunity to probe how Ser Donnel, who reveals himself to be the son of a crabbing family, rose to become a Knight in the Kingsguard.
“Same way we became crabbers,” he grins, and I have absolutely no idea what he meant by that. Walking sideways?
Somehow Dunk sneaks into the castle unnoticed and eavesdrops on silver fox Baelor chatting with Lord Ashford and friends, and discussing something of great import..
The princes are missing! The princes are missing!
Given Egg’s response to being anywhere near Targaryen flair, we can only assume his face is on a milk carton.
Eventually the Prince notices Dunk’s hulking form in the doorway, calms the offended lords present cordially invites him in.
Dunk nervously introduces himself and explains his situation. He’s desperate, but there’s an edge of resentment building, that his beloved(?) mentor’s life only seems to have mattered to him.
But gods be praised, there’s a miracle. Sexy Silver Fox remembers Ser Arlan!
They fought at a tournament and broke four lances against each other. Dunk is certain it was seven, but Baelor kindly explains some stories grow in the telling, and it doesn’t diminish Ser Arlan’s actual exploits.
It’s another lesson for those of us watching that there’s no extra energy expended in being kind, and generous with praise of the dead.
At this point in the Wonderful World of Westeros, we’re decades past the Dance of the Dragons, the result of which I’m still trying to avoid remembering from that one time King Joffrey described it to Kate Middleton/Margaery Tyrell in Game of Thrones. Who knows what memories of Queen Rhaenyra and King Aegon II now live on, two or three generations later?
All we can judge are the impressions Baelor is creating now, and they seem to be positive. There’s a great moment where Dunk praises him, saying Ser Arlan always said the kingdom would be in safe hands with him. “Not for many years to come, I pray,” a diplomatic response worthy of a Nobel prize-gifting Venazuelan opposition leader.
When Dunk calls Baelor “the soul of chivalry” because he gave Ser Arlan back his armour and horse after besting him, Prince Meerkat’s only response is a derisive but hilarious “ugh”. When he tells Dunk to “fuck off, Baelor responds with kindness, explaining to Dunk that Meerkat’s sons are missing and he’s worried. To be fair he looks more pissed off than worried, embarrassed by his wayward sons carrying on.
Of course Dunk’s response of “I trust they will not be found dead” is so well-meaning but portentous that Prince Meerkat almost forgets his bad mood to stare in dumbstruck wonder at the unintended insolence of it. No doubt Dunk left an impression here.
It’s Baelor who suggests to the Master of Games that Dunk take a place in the lists, and it’s Baelor who informs Dunk he must start his own legacy building by creating his own sigil.
“I will fight bravely,” is Dunk’s grateful reply.
Buoyed by this, Dunk makes a return to the Temporary Theatre Space where his crush Tanselle is this time performing in a romantic floor show featuring a Florian the Fool puppet created by her uncle. The theme is that even knights are fools if they are in love, which is appropriate given Dunk’s goo-goo eyes are bigger than Egg’s head.
He hasn’t just turned up for the fun though, he needs her help. Discovering that she paints the puppets as well as acts and does the fire effects (triple threat), he asks her to help create his sigil. A lengthy discussion follows on what that sigil should be. Egg plumps for an elm tree to reflect Dunk’s mighty height. Dunk opts for a shooting star above it, a neat little good luck charm.
And now, please welcome to the arena - Lord Lyonel Baratheon, Laughing Storm and Seven Kingdoms Tug-o-War champion!
The Giggling Cyclone demanded Dunk’s muscle for his tug-o-war team, going up against what I presumed was a crew from House Ashford (I’m struggling with all the new sigils).
Sensibly tied down as the team anchor, and with puny Egg providing moral support up front, Dunk helps drag the competition forward - until the Cackling Tempest decides he needed a mid-match drinks break.
As the crowd boos and Dunk calls out in panic, Lord Lyonel insists he’s thirsty and breaks the line for a drink. Harangued by supporters, he throws the c-bomb around as liberally as he throws back wine, then grabs the rope just behind Egg, giving enough of a tug to yank the enemies to the muddy ground. Victory!
As fun as the Guffawing Rain Bomb continues to be, I must admit he was followed by my new favourite character.
As night falls, Dunk goes in search of the other requirement for a knight - armour - and meets Steely Pate, who must be Steely Dan’s younger and hairier brother.
I was IMMEDIATELY and FOREVER on Team Steely Pate.. Beardy can do whatever he wants, as far as I’m concerned, except of course he won’t, because he’s Steely Pate and he is NOT A GUY FOR BULLSHIT.
He makes simple, solid, strong armour - good steel, no gold or silver. No “winged pigs or fancy farm fruits”. Steely Pate doesn’t follow trends. Steely Pate is not here for your Insta filters or TikTok shop or paid YouTube partnerships. Steely Pate doesn’t advertise.
He does, however, have a soft side, hidden under all his leatherware and gruff bass tones. He can see Dunk is hurting for some help, so he offers him a discount for some kit in return for Ser Arlan’s smaller armour. Problem is, he also requires 600 stag. I don’t know what the current exchange rates are, but given Dunk has two stag to his name, it may as well be a million dollars.
“I will pay you back, I mean to be a champion here,” Dunk declares. “Do you now?” asks Steely Pate. “And all these other fellows, they’re just here to cheer you on?”
Steely Pate is our DEADPAN MASTER.
Dunk has to find 600 stag, which means he must trade his beautiful white mare for the dosh. Seeing Dunk lean on his steed, promising to get her back when he wins DAMN NEAR BROKE MY HEART.
Then he insist the trader take a coin to give the horse some oats and an apple AND I NEARLY CRIED. Damn accompanying folk fiddle soundtrack. So full of longing and manipulation.
Back at the drinks tent, Dunk ruminates on his beloved(?) mentor’s legacy, that in all of his 60 years, he was never a champion. But perhaps if Dunk could score at least one win, a great house might hire him, just like that humble Ser Donnel the Kingsguard.
Egg has bad news - Ser Donnel might ape humility but his father owns half the crabbing fleet in Westeros. Presumably this is worth an alliance. “How would you know?” Dunk pffts. “I like fishing", is Egg’s coy answer.
Just then, they’re interrupted by more PROPER GODDAMNED MEDIEVAL TRUMPETS!
I was not expecting the Ren Fayre re-enactment to begin with a night match, but maybe it was forced on them due to the TV broadcast rights and time differences.
As Egg watches from Dunk’s shoulders, an array of impressively mounted knights jostle into place. There’s definitely a Baratheon there, a Lannister, a Tully, and another few houses whose sigils I didn’t recognise. But Egg of course recognises our final Blondie for this episode - Baelor’s son and match favourite Prince Vhalar. Or Valar? As in “Valar Morghulis”? Or Valarr? Or Valaar? Nobody could just be called Jon, could they?
In total 10 knights mount their steeds, facing off five a side.
A random punter, in a moment of quiet before the lances are unleashed, yells “Lord Ashford f***s his sheep!” It elicits a few laughs from the small folk, and a few squirms from Lord Ashford and his posh guests up in their fancy mezzanine.
Then it’s on.
The PROPER GODDAMNED MEDIEVAL TRUMPET sounds once more, and there is what can only be described as an apocalyptic moment of anticipation as the two sides gallop hell for leather at each other.
Lances splinter and break on shields, sending riders and horses plunging to the ground. The Targaryen definitely lands a blow; another chap does a specular recovery after being dislodged - spooling himself back up onto his charge then sweeping down to retrieve his shield.
The knights turn at the end of each pass and go back - it’s not entirely clear if this is a Royal Rumble and they’re trying to be the last one standing - and the whole effect is discombobulating.
We haven’t seen a joust in Westeros world since the Mountain sliced his own horse’s head off in that King’s Landing event early in the first series of Game of Thrones. The five-aside demonstration definitely ups the spectacle with extraordinary camerawork, special effects and foley.
Poor Dunk is watching it all with an increasing sense of panic - that’s going to be him tomorrow.
Ser Arlan may have taught him well, but he is going in greener than a shamrock on a tennis court.
He has visions of his dead master as steel and wood clash in the arena, and Egg, conscious of his own puny hands, screams in support of the battling knights.
We don’t see a final result of the joust, rather, we finish the night with Dunk and Egg back at their humble camp. Egg is brandishing a stick as a sword; Dunk is deep in thought.
Initially his mood seems to be one of despair, frustrated at himself for his misplaced ambition.
“Do great knights live in hedges and die by the side of muddy roads? I think not.”
He’s clearly torn about Ser Arlan’s legacy. He had many flaws, and if he lived 60 years and never a champion, what makes Dunk think he will be any better?
But then Ser Arlan did pull Dunk out of obscurity, treated him like family, and taught him martial arts faithfully.
So none of these knights remember his name? Maybe that doesn’t matter any more. Maybe that gap in knowledge can now be filled, the way Dunk wants to fill it. Maybe he can create new memories.
“His name was Ser Arlan of Pennytree and I am his legacy. On the morrow, we will show them what his hand has wrought.”
Yay! Best Moments
The brutality of the mass joust was incredible, albeit somewhat headache-inducing..
Ser Lyonel’s tug-o-war team was a delightful romp, with the Chuckling Polar Vortex giving Dunk quite the slap on the rump.
But my favourite little moments came in the awkwardness of Dunk introducing himself to Tanselle, and her response to his name by citing her own nickname of “Tanselle Too Tall”.
“You’re not too tall, for activities…” he croaks out awkwardly before almost walking off and taking the shield she’s just agreed to paint.
The scene smash cuts to a bar booth where Dunk ruminates on the poorly-handled encounter. Egg tries to encourage him. “You’re both gigantic,” he offers, which Dunk questions if that means a romance could be promising. “It’s a commonality,” Egg diplomatically responds.
Then Egg looks for his own reassurance, wondering if he’ll ever be a knight because people have always told him he’s puny. “People have always told me I’m stupid,” declares Dunk… but then offers no more.
Egg seizes on the “and?!?” Dunk did not realise he left hanging in the air. While he’s smarter than probably given credit for, he definitely doesn’t have much in the way of social cues. Instead, he tells Egg off for interfering in his business. “My problems are my own,” he mumbles, leaving Egg utterly baffled. It’s a truly gorgeous moment between this perfectly mismatched pair.
Zing! Best Lines
Stablehand holding horse: “Are you Baelor Targaryen?”
Dunk: “No”.
Stablehand holding horse: “Then would you move the f*** out of the way?”
I do not know if the actor playing that stablehand will ever appear again in this series, but WHAT a line to have on your resume.
Ew, gross
Some fish-breath from House Tully goes all Ozzy Osbourne on a tilapia just before the joust, offering it up to the new gods and the old. It certainly doesn’t inspire me to order a salmon supper, that’s for sure.
Oh, wait! I forgot about Lord Ashford’s daughter, whose name I think was Gwen. She seems to be maybe 14 or 15, and is the one who tells Dunk about the missing Targaryen princes before being unnecessarily mean to him, calling him “big and stupid”.
It’s nice to have a second female character in the mix (well, apart from the sassy whores from last week), so fingers crossed she doesn’t have something terrible happen to her OR continues being mean to Dunk.
Boo, sucks
I’m over it now, but I was a tad frustrated that we didn’t see Duncan joust this episode. We only have six episodes! And they’re only short! But I get it, I get it. We needed to give Duncan some more motivation for what’s before him. If we thought his butt troubles last week were bad, he’s going to need extra brown trousers to do what must be done next.
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