Still Life with Tree
The colors are vibrant: blue sky, green grass, yellow sun, red blood. A young boy is sprawled near a cheery blanket spread beneath a tree, crossbow bolt protruding from his chest. His mother, some yards distant, still oozes blood and worse from a terrible gash through her middle.
The boy’s father stands apart, eyes wide and empty of reason. His broad shoulders are slumped in despair; one work-calloused hand is dangling at his side, the other absently clutching a sword of his own forging. At his feet are two bodies, one still armed with a crossbow, the other wearing a scabbard that looks to fit the bloody sword in the man’s hand.
Nearby, a nervous mule is hitched to a cart laden with crates of weapons—crates clearly marked as property of the Kingsguard.
Just beyond the horizon is the Valendian border.