Before you saddle up for this adventure, please be warned that there are spoilers ahead for episode one of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, “The Hedge Knight.”
When last we met, fans of Westerosi television had grown accustomed to hearing the wails and moans of beleaguered nobles echoing from the stark walls of castles, dungeons, and “the bowels of the pleasure den.” Recently, HBO’s House of the Dragon followed up the flagship Game of Thrones (GOT) series by immersing fans in the Dance of the Dragons, dramatizing the trials and tribulations of the mightiest bloodlines and greediest social climbers Westeros has to offer. Since then, we’ve been jumping from one harsh location to the next, leaping across decades, and hitting the heavy highlights of the noble Targaryen line. While this reviewer loves palace intrigue as much as the next guy, it’s hard to ignore how stuffy and claustrophobic the sweeping world of Westeros has become.
Luckily, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is here to offer a (literal) breath of fresh air. HBO’s latest entry into the GOT series feels like a return to a side of Westeros that fans haven’t enjoyed since the early days of Thrones: the days when we spent entire seasons traveling the expanse of The King’s Road and watching unlikely duos build meaningful bonds as they fight their way across the diverse landscapes of Westeros. At some point, that lived-in atmosphere gave way to lazy location-hopping via dragon-fast-pass and we lost our sense of time and scale – the thread that holds this epic world together.
Fortunately, based on the premiere episode of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, it seems like showrunner Ira Parker and company have rediscovered that thread. Westeros is beautiful again…well, at least when we aren’t watching the hedge knight defecate at the foot of the tree where he buried his mentor.
From the jump, “The Hedge Knight” showcases the show’s commitment to a more beautiful Westeros as we meet Ser “Dunk” the Tall (Peter Claffery, Bad Sisters) burying his late mentor beneath a wispy tree against a pristine wooded vista (filmed on location in Belfast, Northern Ireland). Later, Dunk bathes in a stream and even sets up camp under a tree; while Dunk admits this choice is largely based on the fact that he can’t afford a knight’s pavilion, he and his young squire certainly appear more at home beneath the stars. There is no doubt that we are a far cry from ornate candelabras lighting stone bedchambers. Even when nature isn’t beautiful within the series, it maintains a visceral presence. We are constantly reminded of our weary knight’s stench, and he is constantly batting away bugs as he navigates the world around him. If nothing else, it feels honest and earnest.
This honesty and earnestness is also reflected in the show’s commitment to centering smallfolk. As Dunk makes his way to a tourney to kickstart his knighthood, the smallfolk he encounters consistently bemoan the silly indulgence of the nobles and show a willingness to fight for control over their circumstances, from the innkeeper who bemoans the rising cost of eggs to the sex workers who’ve asserted their place within noble hierarchies. We see a similar hopeful spirit in Dunk’s persistent squire-to-be, the aptly-named Egg (Dexter Sol Ansell, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes). Egg is presented as a simple stableboy with big dreams, though astute fans may notice his conspicuous shaved head and physical proximity to an angry Targaryen nobleman.
Ultimately, no character better glorifies the smallfolk than Ser Dunk himself. As a “hedge knight,” he holds only a dubious claim to honor or respect, he lacks the backing of a major house, and his inheritance is limited to a few good horses and a hand-me-down sword. Like his late mentor, Ser Arlan of Pennytree (Danny Webb, Pennyworth), Dunk is mocked as a sad excuse for a knight, but he doesn’t let that get him down. Dunk is openly flawed and fallible as he continuously bonks his head against doorframes, gets pushed around by women and children, and carries out his most meaningful conversations with his horse (“We’re not sad! Certainly not rising-to-the-level-of-a-comment sad!”).
Despite the laughs, Dunk quickly establishes himself as one of the rarest character types in the Thrones universe: someone you can root for. From the opening moments when he bemoans the fact that he is presiding over his mentor’s funeral alone without the aid of a high-ranking septon to his empty threats that he will beat Egg “if he deserves it,” we see that Dunk is an innocent. He still feels the pain of an unfair beating from his childhood, he introduces himself with a humble nickname (young Egg, a child, has to deduce that Dunk’s full name is Duncan), and he acknowledges that he is often at war with himself and his decisions: “sometimes I agonize a lot.” It’s hard to make humanity more relatable than that. Sure, Dunk never finds the flowery words of a septon to honor Ser Arlan, but his earnest delivery of, “I wish you didn’t die, sir” speaks volumes coming from the mouth of a man who could just as easily let his size do the talking. Instead, he leads with his heart.
Of course, Dunk is more than a relatable sad sack. We see the makings of a noble, but complex hero below the surface. Before lighting out for the tourney, Dunk briefly considers taking a path that might turn him into an outlaw or beggar. There is also the open question of his knighthood. Dunk admits to the master of the tourney that nobody witnessed his knighting apart from a nearby bird, and the premiere fails to show this moment despite numerous other flashbacks. We are left to wonder if this kindly, humble man truly “earned” his title, or if he took what he felt he deserved after years of thankless service. When he first bears Ser Arlan’s sword instead of burying it, he speaks of the choice as a practical matter, but when he tests the balance of the blade and says, “it fits my grip as well as it ever fit his,” it’s hard not to hear a note of defiance.
As much as we love Dunk, he will need a sense of strength and defiance to survive in Westeros.
Fortunately, “The Hedge Knight” delivers a useful new mentor in the form of one the most instantly iconic characters in the history of GOT television: The Laughing Storm, Ser Lyonel Baratheon (Daniel Ings, Lovesick). Ser Lyonel is a hedonistic knight who really knows how to throw a party (including a killer buffet for the starving Ser Dunk), but seems to derive more pleasure from throwing people off guard than from adding to his holdings. From the moment we spy him presiding over the festivities, adorned with a full rack of antlers, this dynamo of debauchery commands our attention. While he could have easily taken a villainous turn, his delight at Dunk’s honest admission that he came for free food and failed to bring an offering proves that this flamboyant nobleman may provide the bridge our beloved hedge knight needs to cut through the ranks. As The Laughing Storm puts it: “within each man, there are many men.” It seems that audiences will get to discover all of those different men as the series progresses.
Despite this exciting new benefactor, the premiere ends on a simple note. Egg successfully rides a lamb cart to freedom and embeds himself as Dunk’s squire. He makes himself indispensable, lights a fire, and pushes back just enough to keep Dunk on his toes. Clearly, Egg sees something in this silly old knight that he likes, and this viewer can’t wait to see what they can teach each other (or how many self-important nobles they can piss off along the way).
We’ll see you next week for Episode 2: “Hard Salt Beef.”
