Stepping out of the dim archway of the inner keep, Aegor easily spotted his nominal apprentice. Arya was practicing sword fighting in the open ground, wearing a light, fitted outfit. Her ponytail swung behind her as she nimbly jumped around, sometimes chopping forcefully, sometimes thrusting quickly. She spun and leapt, landing on her toes, constantly shifting left and right, launching dazzling attacks while shouting what was probably meant to encourage herself. This was the sound Aegor had heard from a distance just now.
Putting aside practicality for a moment, Aegor had to admit that Arya's posture and movements while wielding a sword were quite pleasing to the eye. No wonder there were many soldiers gathered around watching. Among them were those cheering and giving random instructions, and even some who seemed to delight in chaos, shouting encouragement to her or her opponent.
Beric watched for a moment, his eyes lighting up. "That's a beautiful fight. Who is this lady? She seems to have received very good sword training."
"Arya Stark, the younger sister of the current Lord of Winterfell," Aegor replied.
To be honest, after training with Jaqen and constantly seeking sparring partners even when not with him due to her passion, Arya's skills had become quite good—perhaps even better than his. Compared to him, her master, who was busy all day and could only spare a little time for training to maintain physical fitness, her improvement was remarkable. Even without the experience of training at the House of Black and White across the Narrow Sea, she had reached an impressive level.
Of course, the "better" mentioned here only referred to the theoretical level of moves and techniques. Disadvantages in strength and physique, as well as shortcomings in real combat experience and mental composure, could not be made up through practice alone. The sword fighting taught to Arya by the Faceless Men was also more suited for sudden attacks and assassinations rather than direct combat in a duel. So although she wielded the wooden sword in her hand with flashy moves, she still could not overcome her opponent and even had to retreat awkwardly to dodge counterattacks from time to time.
"So it's Lady Stark," Thoros said, staring at the field with interest as he let out a burp. "Tsk, tsk… she's the longest-legged lady I've ever seen. Good figure and well trained, definitely no excess fat anywhere on her body. Her future husband will be blessed… Huh, why is she wearing ankle chains? Is this some legendary self-limitation to suppress one's strength and increase the difficulty?"
"What?" Aegor was confused for a moment, then jumped in fright. Only after being reminded did he realize that the person standing in the center of the field, parrying Arya's storm-like attacks, was actually his prisoner, Asha Greyjoy. His previous conversation with Beric and Thoros was completely like a chicken talking to a duck.
He had heard Arya's voice from afar and was familiar with her figure and back, so he spotted her at a glance after entering, overlooking the Kraken's Daughter, who was dressed inconspicuously and whose movements were not as exaggerated. But Beric Dondarrion and his group did not know Lady Stark in this timeline. As adult males and soldiers, they had immediately noticed the other woman in the field, who had longer legs and better form.
This was not just an awkward misunderstanding. Aegor certainly could not forget that Asha had been captured because she led the Ironborn to invade the North, and Arya was the younger sister of the Warden of the North. Even a wooden sword could kill if it hit a vital spot.
He immediately shouted in fright, "Arya, what are you doing? Stay away from her!"
In his panic, even someone as cautious and rational as he was made a wrong move. Arya, suddenly hearing his voice, not only failed to move away from Asha but was distracted by his shouting. Turning her head toward him with a look of joy, she exclaimed, "Master?"
With that moment of distraction, the wooden sword in Asha's hand stabbed Arya in the back.
Aegor's heart nearly leapt out of his throat. Fortunately, things did not develop as he feared. After a small stumble, Arya turned back indignantly as if nothing had happened. "Hey, why did you ambush me!"
"Didn't your master teach you not to be distracted during a fight?" Asha withdrew her wooden sword and looked at Aegor, who rushed over and pulled the girl back, shielding her behind him. Her face was full of mockery. "What's wrong now, Commander? If I wanted to hurt this little girl, she would have died dozens of times during the ten-plus days you were away."
"No way!" Arya shouted defiantly. "I only… lost once or twice. Most of them were draws!"
"Alright, shut up!" Aegor, still shaken, glared at Asha warningly. He didn't say more. Taking the wooden sword from Arya's hand, he casually threw it aside and pulled her by the arm to lead her away from the center of the training ground. On the way, he also sternly glanced at the surrounding soldiers who were watching the sword duel between noble ladies with great interest. "What are you looking at? Disperse! Go do what you're supposed to do!"
"What are you doing!" Arya, who had been enjoying herself, felt her arm ache from Aegor's grip and struggled unhappily. "I only just started fighting her today!"
"You're asking me? Do you know who that person was just now? Your master doesn't object to you finding people to practice sword fighting with, but you should at least pick someone appropriate!"
"We're not using real swords," Arya retorted, looking unhappy. "Besides, she's only a little bit better than me. She can't do anything to me."
Aegor had no mind to argue with her. He would later directly tell the guards that Asha and Arya were not allowed to spar anymore. This matter was non-negotiable. As a prisoner, the Kraken's Daughter was too restless. Who knew if she had ever thought of harming Arya to retaliate against House Stark, only to give up in the end? The human heart was the hardest thing to predict. If anything happened to Arya under his watch, he could not bear the responsibility.
Dragging Arya back to Lord Yam's side, Aegor had to re-answer the question Beric Dondarrion had just asked. The long-legged lady in the field was his prisoner, Asha Greyjoy, and the little girl beside him, who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth, was Lady Stark. Though Arya's little face was flushed and dotted with sweat, making her look charming in her own way, Beric and the others were still more "interested" in the mature Asha. After some brief greetings and conversation, Yam, the Town Chief of Crowntown, who had received the news, hurried over.
After explaining the identities of the guests he had brought back to Crowntown to Yam and asking him to send people to arrange accommodations for Lord Beric and his followers, Aegor began to handle the important matters. "I brought back a large batch of saltpeter from King's Landing. A small portion of it was scraped from the Wall. Send it directly to the weapons department for assembly into Dragon Crystal Bombs without delay. The other large portion is mixed with a lot of salt. Have the pyromancers and relevant departments begin purification immediately. For the specific method and process, have Maester Qyburn study it together. And this gentleman here is Tobho Mott, a famous master blacksmith from King's Landing. Have someone take him to the foundry in the industrial district and let him see if anything is needed to start work. Have him make a list and implement it as soon as possible."
"Yes, my lord."
After summoning several lower-ranking managers in succession and assigning the key tasks he had listed, Aegor, having dealt with all the goods and guests brought back from King's Landing, finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then he asked about the most obvious problem he had noticed upon entering Crowntown. "What's going on with the people camped outside the city walls? I told you to issue a medium-level warning the day after I left. Why haven't all the people been settled inside the city after more than ten days?"
"Alas, my lord, you don't know. A few days ago a false attack alarm was sent from the direction of the Great Canyon. Currently, the number of residents gathered in Crowntown is far more than what should be present under a medium-level alert state. Many New Gift tribes living within half a day's journey also moved here in a panic after seeing the beacon fires. The total number far exceeds Crowntown's normal capacity. Persuading them to move back to their homes is difficult with the back-and-forth travel, and putting them all inside the city would affect the normal operation of various productions. So they can only be temporarily settled outside the city."
"False alarm?" Aegor became serious. "What happened?"
(To be continued.)
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